Sweet Stockholm
by macgirlanon
Summary: Mac/OC- Devon brings his big brother a gift as repayment for some stolen meth. This story is rated M for a reason, you have been warned.
1. Chapter 1

He pushed the shopping cart quickly down the aisle of the local hardware store. Lye, check. Paint thinner, check. Acetone, check. The last few ingredients he needed to make up his next batch. He hurriedly approached the checkout counter and laid the items atop it, much to the suspicion of the cashier. She was average. Mousy brown hair, hazel eyes, small stature.

"Mac, is it?" She asked. She had heard of him. She knew it was him from his black smile.

"Yeah?" He glared up at her. "What of it?"

Just his dead cold glare sent chills down her spine, she knew he was dangerous and thought it better not to ask questions. Everyone in Caineville knew that Mac cooked meth. Everyone looked the other way.

He watched her impatiently as she typed the UPC of the lye into the register, he racing thoughts briefly interrupted by the vibrations of his cell phone.

A text: _Trouble cave -D_

This made him immediately worried and uneasy, "Can you hurry it up?"

"Sorry," the small cashier mumbled, terribly uncomfortable under his hard gaze, her fingers trembled as she punched in the last UPC.

He didn't waste time bagging his merchandise, he threw it all back into his cart and made his way out the door to his beat up red Ford pickup, instantaneously throwing the lye, thinner, and acetone into the bed, violently shoving the cart so it rolled halfway out into the middle of the desolate parking lot.

As soon as he got into the cab of his truck, he whipped his cell out, dialing quickly.

"The fuck you mean 'trouble'?" he shouted into the phone.

"She...she killed a cop, man. I followed him here from the Luna Mesa. Came in asking all types of questions, her family is still looking for her. I followed him out to the cave, but by the time I got in... man, she fucked him up. He's dead as a doornail. We gotta clean this up before Dad-"

Mac snapped his cell phone shut, "Fuck!" he yelled, pounding his fist on the steering wheel. Just what he needed, another fucking mess to clean up. He started his rust trap of a truck and peeled out of the Denny & Sons Hardware parking lot.

As he drove through the Canyon, his grip so tight on the wheel that his knuckles turned purple then white, he remember how none of this mess would've started if Devon could just mind his own fucking business. Devon was always fucking Mac's life up.

* * *

**_A year earlier..._**

Mac awoke as the sunlight hit his face through his blindless windows. His bed was nothing more than a filthy mattress on a filthy floor, his room littered with drawings of the vision that haunted him the most-his father's spider tattoo. He sat up, rubbing his face over with his hands. He reached across the bed for his cell phone, sure to find orders from his father on how much meth to cook up next.

He squinted as he opened his clamshell phone, the light of the screen still too bright for his hungover eyes.

_Had to give away some product. I found a way 2 make it up 2 u -D_

"For fuck's sake, Devon!" Mac gritted his teeth, throwing the phone across the room. Mac ardently rose from the mattress and grabbed his stained, stinking coveralls up off the floor, pulling them over his ever-present white wife beater and his boxers. He walked across the room to pick up his surprisingly still intact cell phone and headed for the door.

As Mac entered the cave, he heard Devon laughing. What the fuck was he up to now?

"Aw, pretty baby, don't be shy!" Mac heard Devon taunt. He also heard the rustling of chains. This can't be good.

Finally making his way into his "kitchen," he saw Devon's backside, he was straddling something-someone-on a rickety old lawn chair.

"The fuck's going on in here?" Mac said, fists clenched and pulse racing.

Devon turned around swiftly, nearly jumping out of his skin, "Oh, hey big brother!"

"What is that? _Who_ is that?" Mac asked, seeing two long legs extend from in-between Devon's.

"Your payback, for the meth."

"What the fuck, Devon!" Mac's voice reverberated off the stone walls.

Devon got up, revealing a girl from underneath him. She was pretty. Long tanned legs, a voluptuous figure, big tits and wide hips, her long dark hair made perfect waves down her chest, perfectly accentuating her olive skin. A denim miniskirt and pink camisole barely covering her trembling body. Her arms were restrained behind her, as well as a chain around her waist holding her tightly to the chaise, and her ankles tied with common rope. Her mouth bound with duct tape, she wriggled helplessly with tears streaming down her face. Mac looked away quickly, feeling his dick harden, trying to remember how his younger brother just created yet another fucking mess.

"I roofied her at a bar outside of town last night, brought her back here, figured you could use a play thing," Devon shrugged casually, pulling a joint from his shirt pocket and lighting it. "Was bored. Waiting on Reggie to regain consciousness...that fucking heroin, sometimes I give her too much-"

"A play thing?!" Mac shouted interrupting Devon. "That's not a play thing, that's a big fucking problem! What the fuck, man! I swear, you were fucking born with two brain cells!" Mac kicked over one of his work tables, sending boxes of Sudafed spilling out onto the cave floor.

Devon's shoulders tensed then relaxed as he straightened out the collar of his blue oxford shirt. Devon, always looking like the perfect little college boy. "Well, I can't let her go. She'll go straight to the cops. Lead them back here. We'd both go down, along with Dad." He took a drag of his joint, and exhaled slowly.

Mac pulled out his tin, dipping his finger in, wiping the powder across his rotted teeth, suddenly feeling calmer and farther away...knowing if it weren't for the meth, he would've killed Devon long ago. And in turn, his father would kill him.

"Alright," Mac said, his broad figure unwinding. He ran his tongue over his teeth, savoring the last little drop. "I guess I should thank you, huh?"

Devon smiled as he clapped a hand to Mac's shoulder, "Wreck her, then you can thank me."

Mac's lips turned upward, revealing his black grin as he walked over to the girl. Standing over her he was tracing every curve of her body with his eyes. It'd been so long since he had some good pussy. The whores in town just weren't doing it for him anymore. He smiled to himself, watching the poor girl struggle with her restraints, her cries muffled under the silver band of tape. He stuck his hand in his pocket to readjust his hard-on.

Leaning down to her, he cupped her chin harshly with his rough hand, "You and me are gonna have ourselves some fun."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Kinda new at this. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated._

**_A year earlier (cont'd)..._**

"Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds be," Devon smiled, taking the last puff of his joint before tossing it on the ground. "Remember, Mac, don't let her go. Do not let her escape. Do what you want with her, then _dispose_ of her."

Mac, still cupping the girl's chin in his hand, looked over his shoulder and nodded at Devon, who turned on his heel to leave. Mac quickly focuses his attention back to the girl. Her big, brown eyes gleaming red with tears. Her cheeks saturated.

"I'm gonna take off this tape, but don't you fucking scream, ya understand?"

The girl nodded frantically. Mac wasting no time, mercilessly jerked the tape from her lips as she let out a yelp.

"Please! Let me go! My family, they have money! Whatever you want! Please!" She jerked her arms, rattling the chain around her waist, trying to draw her knees up to no avail.

Mac reared back and struck the girl as hard as he could, drawing blood to the corner of her mouth, "Shut up!"

The girl dropped her head, sobbing, causing a malicious smile to spread across Mac's face.

"What's your name, darlin'?"

The girl dileberately ignored the question, she just continued to sob, her chin resting on her chest.

Mac reached behind him and drew his knife from his back pocket, "I said, what the fuck's your name?!" pressing the flat side of the blade against her cheek.

"An-Ansley!" she stammered.

"That's better." He grinned as he glided the flat part down her cheek, down her neck, down her chest, stopping at her cleavage. He felt his cock stiffen again as he gawked down her camisole, making out the lacy trim of her pink bra. Her tits were large and tan. Mac licked his lips at the thought of a plump, pink nipple in between his teeth, so caught up in his own mind not realizing the point of his knife was digging into her breastbone until she yelped once more causing him to snap back into reality.

"Please, just let me go, please..." she weakly begged, her face red and blistered from his blow.

"Begging ain't gonna do you any good, _Ansley_," Mac said, mockingly sympathetic and dragging out her name. He put a gentle hand to her hot, red cheek as she abruptly tried to escape from his touch, he ran his hand from her cheek to her tangled, dark brown hair. He grabbed a fistful and yanked, "Don't turn away from me, cunt!" as he brought her long, dark tendrils up to his nostrils to breathe in, "Mmm, you smell good. So sweet."

"You're filth!" Ansley barked, shaking her head for him to turn loose of her hair.

"Don't act like you don't love it, baby girl," lightly dropping her tangles, wagging his tongue at her.

"You are disgusting! Rotted teeth! Tweaker wounds all over your arms! Your breath smells like a hot pile of shit!"

Mac leaned down and firmly grasped both sides of her head with his strong hands, his eyes pierce into hers for only a moment while he used his thumbs to pry open her jaw. His strength, no match for her, as she tried to break away from his vice. Pulling her mandible down, he impelled his tongue deep into her mouth; gliding it over her palate, her teeth, and roughly caressing her tongue with his own. She whined in repulsion. As he pulled away from her mouth, sucking her bottom lip so hard it begins to swell. Ansley gagged at the rancid taste of his kiss, trying to ignore the unwelcome moisture growing between her knees.

"Fuck, girl. You even taste sweet. I think I'm gonna call you Cupcake, baby. _Ansley_ is a dumbass name anyhow," Mac grinned, licking the traces of her saliva off from around his lips, releasing her head from his grip.

"Fuck you!" Ansley spat on the ground next to her, "You psycho piece of shit!"

"'Fuck you'? Yes, Cupcake. That's exactly what I had in mind," his eye dark as he grabbed his crotch. "Gah, girl, I'm gonna make you love me. You're gonna be begging for me."

She writhed helplessly against her bonds. She tried jerking the chains from around her arms. All of her movement has done nothing more than cause her denim skirt to ride up her waist, revealing her pink, see-through panties.

"No use in fighting, Cupcake. You're tangled in the spider web now. You're mine." Mac threw one leg on one side over the rusted lawn chair, standing over her. He watched as her thighs rubbed together, attempting to brandish the rope around her ankles...the pink, see-through fabric dancing under her skirt. His dick twitching just thinking about being in-between those olive, luscious thighs. He reached down to glide a hand up her leg and she started to squirm helplessly again. _ Like a worm on a hook_, his mind joked.

"You gonna have to pipe down, now. Let _Papi_ have some of that sweet pussy," he said, licking over his top lip.

"No! I'd rather die! I'd rather fucking die! Just fucking kill me!" she screamed, pulling again on her wrist restraints.

Mac smiled as he pulled his tin out from his back pocket, rubbing his tonic across his teeth once more, only this time, he quickly leaned down to her, crashing his mouth against hers. Forcing the drug into her mouth, assaulting her sweet tongue once more with his bitter one. Even as he pulled away, he placed a firm palm against her lips to ensure she didn't spit it out. "Gonna have you feeling good, Cupcake. Real good." He said as he began to undo the buttons of his coveralls.

Ansley's head swam. Her vision dancing. She saw light and darkness, in distinguishing contrast. She heard everything. She heard nothing. She managed, "Please, stop..." feeling like her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

"Yeah, beg. I love it when they beg," he mumbled, pulling his coveralls down, lifting his left leg to free himself completely of them as they dropped down and crumpled around his right ankle. Standing over her in just his wife beater and green plaid boxers, his erection out for the world to see. He cracked his neck, "I'm gonna ruin that precious snatch, Cupcake. You ain't gonna be able to walk when I'm done with you."

Ansley's head continued to float. She hoped it was the trace of her meth in her system making her insane, because as abhorrent as Mac was, she couldn't help but notice how...enticing he could be. His shoulders were broad, his arms toned, his chest strong. He had an extremely handsome face as long as he wasn't revealing the cankers that were his teeth. The unwelcome moisture continuing to grow in her pink panties.

Mac crouched down, barely holding his weight over her, his hard-on scantily touching her stomach. He leaned over, grabbing his knife from the wadded up coveralls on the floor.

"I don't want this, I don't..." Ansley began.

"Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself, Cupcake," Mac smiled, briskly swiping the knife across the camisole and bra strap on her right shoulder, causing her to whimper.

"Please." She tried again, but Mac pushed her begs aside in his racing mind, slashing the garments from her left shoulder.

"Let's see them," he growled, pulling her camisole and bra down to her waist, exposing her opulent rack. "Hot fucking damn, Cupcake. Mmph, enough to make a grown man wanna cry!" He smiled like a child on Christmas morning, immediately grabbing a breast in each hand, nearing his face to her heaving chest.

"Oh, you sick fuck! Just get it over with and kill me!" Ansley managed, struggling under him.

"Nah, Cupcake. Papi is going to draw this out. I'm having too much fun with you," he leaned down to her right breast, never breaking eye contact, as he flicked his tongue over her nipple. He watched as her face turned into a hateful scowl. "Mmm," he smiled turning his attention to the opposite breast and giving it equal treatment.

Ansley flinched under his touch, thinking about his contaminated mouth upon her skin, but somewhere in the dark cave of her mind, she liked it.

Mac lowered himself on her, still holding some weight on his own two feet, grinding his cock against her thigh, "Fuck, bitch..." he whispered, the veins in his neck beginning to appear, resting his forehead on her shoulder. He breathed in deep a few times before once again reaching to retrieve his knife. With knife in hand, he slithered down her legs to end of the chaise.

"No kicking, now," Mac smiled as he sawed the rope off her ankles. Before Ansley could even enjoy having her feet freed, Mac grabbed them hard, one in each hand, forcing her legs apart. As he slid back up the lounge chair, he raised her by her legs, forcing her ass onto his lap, bracing her legs under the pits of his arms. Taking the knife to the hem of her skirt he began to sever the denim, up to the waistband. Mac practically salivating at the sight of her panties, the pale pink contrasting so beautifully with the tone of her skin, he groaned, "Damn, Cupcake." He tossed the knife back onto the dirt floor, taking his large palms against her wide hips, almost lovingly caressing over the silky fabric of his panties before gathering the material in his hands and pulling, ripping them apart at the seams. He brought the pink fabric to his face, inhaling her most intimate scent for only a second, before tossing them behind him, returning his attention to her sex.

"So smooth and shaved," he panted, running his thumb down the outside of her lips.

Ansley groaned, unsure if it was from pleasure or sheer disgust, her mind and body at war with one another, still blaming it on the meth. She tried wriggling her legs free, causing Mac to clamp down on them ever harder with his arms. Her wrists felt like they were about to bleed, she was pulling so tight against the secure chains.

Mac sat perfectly still, his eyes focused on the apex of her thighs, the only movement was his thumb still gliding over her seam. Ansley tried forcing her thighs together once more, making Mac snap out of his trance and force them apart with open palms.

"Ain't no use in fighting, Cupcake...I've already won," he said, rapidly shoving two thick digits into her wet hole. "Dirty little bitch, all fucking wet for me!"

Ansley tightly shut her eyes, forcing the back of her head hard against the vinyl of the chaise, her feet incapably twisting under his firm grip. She felt Mac curl his fingers, making her want to scream...still uncertain if it was out of pain or enjoyment. Instead, she bit her lips together, still fixedly clamping her eyes shut.

Mac, unable to keep his placidity, removed his fingers from her dripping cunt to shove his boxers down just far enough to get his straining sex out. Ansley took this opportunity to grip her thighs together as hard as she could, but his adrenaline (fuck the meth, it wasn't the meth doing this, it was his pure desire to demolish this girl, his need to break her in half) proved too much as he cravingly and roughly pried her legs apart, harshly cupping her entrance in his palm.

"This is my pussy, Cupcake!" he snarled, tightening his grip. Ansley cried out, once again pulling against her bonds. Her cries, music to his ears. Mac wasted no time, sliding up enough to get her plump ass back onto his lap, arching his body in the right angle to slam into her. It was like heaven. It was beyond any amount of meth or whiskey. Her walls fit him just right. "Why...are...you...so...fucking wet...for...me?" he grunted in between thrusts, his powerful hands grabbing her shoulders, pulling her down hard on his length.

Ansley cried, tears flowing freely, out of fear, shame, and embarrassment. The vinyl of the chair rubbing painfully against her back. Her body helpless underneath the weight of his, all she could do was continually shrug her shoulders in hopes he would release them from his tense grasp. She would not scream, she would not beg, she would not give him the fucking pleasure. Mac continued to pump in and out of her. The dark cave of her mind felt that delicious pressure building up in her stomach, she wanted to come so badly. The coherent part of her mind wrote it off as nerves.

"Mmm, fuck, Cupcake...scream for me!" he said, pounding into her even harder that before, the rusty old lawn chair creaking underneath them.

Ansley pressed her lips into a firm line, her pretty face streaked with mascara tears. Mac reached underneath her, cupping her ass firm into his hands to gain more leverage, fucking her even harder, "Fucking scream, cunt!" he yelled, sweat dripping off his forehead and he rocked ferociously against her, his smooth hips clapping into the tender skin of her thighs.

"N-no...no!" Ansley managed through her tight jaw, sniffling.

Mac was not a patient man, he leaned down into her shoulder and bit as hard as he could, drawing blood, as Ansley cried out in pain. That was all it took for Mac, as he came into her sore pussy, gasping for air and finding his fingers once again tangled in her dark tendrils, pulling, licking her blood off his lips.

"Holy fuck, Cupcake!" he panted, riding out his orgasm, collapsing on top of her. His face buried into the crook of her neck, he breathed her in once more. "I'm keeping you, you dirty little bitch," he whispered in a tender way, like how a lover would whisper, causing ominous goosebumps to break out over Ansley's body.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N__: Thank you all so much for your for all your reviews :) I'm glad you're liking it so far. I've only wrote one other FF and it was a Daryl Dixon one...so writing Mac is a totally different ballgame. My confidence has been boosted! xo_

_**Three months after the rape...**_

"I need 1000 grams by Friday, Mac...got some friends from the border headin' in," Walter's gruff voice whispered over the bar.

The Luna Mesa was unusually crowded for a Monday night, making talking business difficult. Devon and his two new found friends playing pool over in the corner, a crowd of weekly regulars, and a crowd of drifters scattered around the bar.

Mac took his shot of whiskey, slamming the shot glass on the bar, "I'll do my best." He rubbed his calloused hands over the front of his dirty blue coveralls.

"That's not good enough, son. This is big business we're talking. If they keep coming back, we can get out of this town...close this dust bucket...start a new life, son."

Mac reached over the counter, grabbing the bottle of Jim Beam, pouring himself another shot, "I said I'd do my best."

Walter looked his eldest son over, knowing something just wasn't quite right. Mac had been avoiding the Luna Mesa for weeks, avoiding _him_ for weeks. Walter stroked his white goatee, worried about what had been distracting Mac...whatever it was, it couldn't be good. He wiped the bar down, looking over at his youngest son, and giving him a curt nod.

Mac left the bar early, just as Walter had expected he would. Devon made his way to the bar, pool stick still in hand.

"What's up?"

"Mac, what is he up to?" Walter lowly asked, as he rearranged the alcohol under the bar.

"I don't know what you mean-" Devon shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"We've had cops in and out of town, looking for missing persons, this happens more than I care to know. You promise me your brother hasn't done anything stupid, you hear?" Walter glared hard into Devon's eyes.

"I promise, Pop. Nothing fishy's going on. He's probably just coming down off the high, ya know? And people go missing all the time in the Canyon. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Walter looked over his son, not believing one word, but gave a gentle smile, nodding anyway.

* * *

Mac pulled up the cave, parking his truck. He sat for a long time, or for what felt like a long time. He reached underneath his seat, pulling out half a bottle of Jack. Unscrewing the top, he glanced up at the night sky. The night sky in the Canyon was like nothing you'd ever see. It was almost hard to believe the Canyon was painted red with blood of a least a hundred men and women. Mac turned the bottled up, polishing off what was left of the bottle.

As he staggered his way into the cave, he heard the chains rustling. This always comforted him.

_She's still here, _he smiled to himself. He knew she couldn't escape, but hell, anything was possible. And with the way cops and tourists were in and out of Caineville all the time, who knows, someone might find her.

Ansley paced the cave, scratching at the new track marks on her arms. Her ankle shackled to a cast iron radiator. She looked tiny in Mac's coveralls, almost the way a child looks like while playing dress-up in they're parents' closet. Mac stood at the opening of the "kitchen" and watched her figure pace back and forth.

"Cupcake! I'm home!" he sarcastically outstretched his arms, as if asking for a hug.

Ansley just stood there, eyes wide but not with fear. It had been Devon's idea to start shooting her up with heroin. Mac questioned this, but it seemed to calm her down. Sometimes it aggravated Mac because he loved a little bit of a fight from time to time.

Ansley stood perfectly still as she folded her hands together, over and over. "Oh, hi."

"Hi...?" Mac started.

"Hi, _Papi_," she said flatly.

"How is Daddy's baby girl feeling tonight?" he slurred, staggering over to an old futon mattress on the dirt floor.

"I...I don't know," she looked up, picking at nothing in the air.

"When did Devon come give you your _medicine_?" Mac asked, laying across the mattress.

"I...I don't know," she repeated.

"You don't know much of nothin', do ya?" he said, his tone becoming irate.

"I just want to sleep, _Papi_. Please? I feel like I'm not in my own body," her eyes, though distant, begged him.

"Come lay next to Daddy, Cupcake," he patted the small empty spot beside him.

Ansley shuffled her feet, rattling the chain. She thought it over in her sloshed mind, until she saw the way Mac's lips pressed into a firm line, knowing she did not have a choice. With _Papi_, there were no choices. Ansley made her way across the cave, her 40 ft. chain just long enough to reach the mattress as she lowered herself onto the floor at the corner of the mattress.

Mac would never admit to it, and God forbid if anyone ever saw, but he pulled the girl close to him, her backside to his front. He nestled his cheek into her hair. After 3 months in the cave, she still smelled so sweet. Maybe it was just all in Mac's mind, but everything about her made his dick harden. Ansley sighed at the pressure of his erection in her ass cheek, knowing that soon she would be "punished for being such a dirty little bitch", as Mac liked to put it, again. The bruises on her inner thighs, hips, and shoulders still had not healed from their last _session_. To her surprise, and his too, he fell asleep, holding her, breathing his drunken breath into her ear. As brutal as Mac was to her, in a sick way she trusted him. Every time he'd _punished_ her, he declared her body as his. She knew that he would not let anyone else lay a harmful finger on her. Soon enough, she drifted off to sleep too...in the arms of her captor and rapist.

When Mac awoke to see what he was doing, what he had been doing the whole night, he shot straight up, looking around. No one was there, just her. She was still asleep, her face contorting then relaxing as if she was having a nightmare. F_uck, she's living a nightmare_, he thought still feeling no remorse. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, laying back down on the mattress. Checking the time he saw that he and Ansley had slept well on into the afternoon of the next day.

"Fuck!" Mac said, slamming his cell phone shut.

He needed to get started on that batch for Walter. His body protested, however. It was still tired. And it had been nearly three days since he had gotten any pussy. Mac his usual, pulling his tin out of his back pocket, dipping his finger in, running the substance over his charcoal teeth. As the drug ran through him, he felt rejuvenated...in the worst kind of way.

"Wake up, Cupcake!" he shouted, shaking Ansley sleeping figure.

Nearly jumping out of her skin, she jolted up. Taking in her surroundings she looked as if she were about to cry.

"Daddy's hungry," Mac smiled.

"Mac... please..." Ansley pleaded, her sweet face drawn in an exhausted scowl.

"What did you call me?!" he yelled, jumping up off the mattress, kicking dirt up in the process.

"_Papi_, please! I hurt so bad...down there..." she said, almost shamefully as she fanned the dust cloud away from her face.

Mac wasn't having any of that, as he jerked her up by her elbows.

"Cupcake, I thought you woulda learned by now," Mac started as he drug her across the room, reaching onto one of his work tables in the process, grabbing a handful of the small chains that once bound her arms around the lounge chair.

Ansley knew better than to struggle against his force. She had learned the hard way that it was just better to do whatever Mac wanted.

"Take 'em off," Mac yelled, picking the top of her coveralls with his fingers.

Ansley swallowed hard as she undid the buttons, slowly, hoping for some miracle to burst into the cave and rescue her. Again, Mac was not a patient man as he stooped down to his knees, forcibly yanking the coveralls down by the legs. The starchy fabric scraped over the tender flesh of she shoulders and she let out a whimper as she stood completely nude, the dirty coveralls just a heap at her feet. The coveralls were all she had, as Mac had destroyed her clothing.

"That's what I like to see!" Mac licked his lips, momentarily appreciating her, until he swiftly gathered her wrists together in the chains.

"Mac-Papi, I mean, you know you don't have to do this...you know I'll do whatever you want-"

"Don't bullshit me. 'I'm tired. I'm sore_.'_ I don't want to hear that shit," Mac snapped, pulling her over to the freestanding engine hoist that Mac and Rick had used to move the radiator with. Mac breathed heavily as he raised her up enough to grapple the chains onto the hook.

Ansley stood, naked, her arms hooked above her head as her tiptoes barely skimmed the ground while Mac ran his hands over her body.

"Mmm, fuck yeah, Cupcake. I swear, your tits...ain't like nothin' I've ever seen," he moaned, running his rough palms over her breasts, making her nipples erect. Mac roughly twirled her right nipple in between his dirty forefinger and thumb. "You nasty slut, you like that?" he asked, looking her in the eyes. Ansley knew just to nod. _Just agree. Everything will be over soon enough._

"Ya lying," Mac growled. "You don't enjoy yourself with me, Cupcake? Big ol' Mac ain't good enough for ya?"

"I"m not lying," Ansley said, unconvincingly, trying to find a safe place to go in her mind until the _punishment_ was over.

"You know," Mac stepped away from her, looking over her naked body, "I've been with a lot of women. I know just want to do for you, Ice Queen. I'm gonna make you fucking scream my name." Mac pulled his tin from his pocket, gathering the stimulant onto his fingertip and then shoving it in Ansley's mouth. Ansley grimaced and squirmed at the feeling and taste of his putrid finger. "Suck it!" Mac screamed, jamming it to the back of her throat. Ansley gagged briefly before giving his thick forefinger a deep suck. Ansley hated the drugs. The heroin. The meth. Other than some occasional heaving drinking and experimenting with marijuana in high school, Ansley had been practically drug free.

"That feel better?" Mac said, softly, as his pulled his finger out from in between her two perfect lips.

Ansley just nodded, as she had been reprogrammed to do. Her arms already sore and tired from being suspended like a piece of meat in a butcher shop.

"Good, baby. That's good. Now, you about to feel even better..." Mac smiled hauntingly as he dropped to his knees, drooping her thighs over his shoulders. Another thing Mac would never admit, only because most women found it pleasing, was that he loved to eat pussy. He loved the wetness in his face. The taste. The smell. But what he loved most of all was feeling so in control of a woman's body without even having to bruise or bloody them up.

"No...no..." Ansley gasped as she felt Mac's dirty mouth on her opening. His hands ran up and down her out thighs, then around to her ass as he pushed her harder against him.

Mac flattened his tongue against her clit as she wriggled above him. She was trying so hard not to moan, but the way her back arched told Mac all he needed to know. Running his tongue slowly up and down her slit, he muffled against her thigh "Dirty little bitch, you're getting awfully wet down here!" Ansley was repulsed. Repulsed that she was actually enjoying this. Had her mind become so warped that she was beginning to think of this as _okay_?

Mac plunged his tongue deep inside of her, and Ansley finally let out a quick moan. She tried to cover it up by beginning to cry, but Mac knew better as he lapped the inside of her walls. Removing his tongue from her hole, he returned the tip of his tongue to her clit, quickly flicking the nub over and over. Her back continued to arch as he felt up her torso and back down to her thighs. He briefly ran a rough hand over her stomach, feeling it clenched tight. He pulled away from her, her thighs still resting on his shoulders, "You gonna come, Cupcake?" He "lovingly" licked up the inside of her thigh, maintaining eye contact with her.

"No!" Ansley shouted, angrily, her arms pulling against the chains.

"Good, I'm glad we agree on something," Mac said, pulling his face away from her pussy, and unwinding her legs from his shoulders. As he stood, he wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve. "You don't deserve to come, bitch. It's time for Papi to get his," he grinned, practically ripping his coveralls in half as he undressed down to his dirty old wife beater, having removed his boxers along with his coveralls.

Grabbing Ansley by the waist, he spun her around, her plump ass angled right at his throbbing hard-on. He gave her ass a hard slap, making her scream out, and he smiled happily at the large red handprint that soon formed. He grabbed her hips harshly, leveling her backside in the right way for him to hammer into her. He slammed into her cunt hard on first thrust, and let out a guttural groan. "Fuck, Cupcake, why is your pussy so fucking perfect?" he questioned before he began pumping in and out of her. Ansley could feel her already bruised hips becoming even more so as his grip tightened with each thrust.

"Oh, fuck, baby," he said, resting his face against her sweaty back, relieving her hips as he reached around to cup both of her breasts. He used them as if they were handles, pulling her back and forth on his cock. "Scream for me, baby, I fucking love it when you scream!"

Ansley knew that if she didn't that he would find a way to make her scream, she let out a weak "Oh, fuck!" This was not enough for Mac as he ran his tongue up her spine, only to bite down hard on the point of her shoulder blade and pinching her nipples.

"Ahhh!" Ansley screamed, throwing her head back in agony. "You fucking asshole!" she yelled, holding her head upright, swinging her elbows above her. "I hate you!"

"Good!" Mac laughed while he continued to slam into her. "You're...making me...fucking...love you!" he groaned huskily in between four hard, deep thrusts. "Dirty little bitch, I want you to fucking come! See how much you hate me then!" he smiled against her back, his hands trailing down from her breasts, over her abdomen, down to her clit. As he circled his middle finger around her tender flesh, Ansley arched her back, her fingers wrapping tight around the chains above her head.

"Stop, oh, stop, Mac!" she said, her voice sounding so unsure.

"Does my nasty little slut like it?" Mac asked, resting his chin on her shoulder, whispering in her ear, "Tell Daddy how much you fucking love it."

"No!" she said, trying to fight the urge to come.

"Fucking...say...it!" he said, pulling completely out of her and plummeting full speed back into her soaked warmth.

"Oh, FUCK!" Ansley said, completely losing herself, her walls contracting as her body went limp, only her restraints holding her upright.

The clenching of her wet pussy around him sent Mac over the edge, he wrapped both arms tight around her waist and pulled her enduringly down onto him and holding her there until the last drop was gone.

Mac rested his head back onto her shoulder, his sweaty chest sticking to her bare back, "You're making me love you."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Present day...**_

Mac pulled up to the cave, violently throwing his truck into park, jumping out without even bothering to shut the door. He wondered into the dark entrance, fists clenched and heart pounding.

Making his way into the "kitchen" he could already see the beginning of an incredulous mess. Tiny speckles of blood tainted every surface: the walls, the ground, the tables, the equipment. He stood over the body. His chest began to heave with anger and panic as he looked down at Deputy Dead-As-Fuck. Laying on his back, the poor bastard had be flayed open like a deer carcass. His brown, dead, open eyes staring into the cave ceiling.

"It's bad, Mac!" Devon said, approaching Mac with blood stained hands. "He is so fucking dead! We'll get the electric chair for this shit!"

"Ya think?!" Mac shouted, kicking the dead body. "Go to Denny & Son's...get a fucking tarp and some fucking ammonia...we got to clean this shit up tonight!" Devon nodded, not wasting any time as he hustled out the cave.

"Where the fuck are you!?" Mac yelled, his voice echoing.

"Here," Ansley pipped up, almost inaudible, as she rose from the dirty futon mattress. Her eyes on the floor, never looking up. In Mac's dirty olive green coveralls, her lovely brown hair tangled and matted with blood.

"C'mere," Mac said, curling his finger at her.

Ansley made her way across the cave, her head hung. She stopped just a foot away from Mac, finally meeting his blue eyes with her brown ones.

"What the fuck have you done?!" Mac shouted, his face in an angry scowl.

"He, uh he..." Ansley drew in a deep breath as she looked over the dead body, "He wanted to take me away from you! I couldn't let him!" Ansley sniffed back some tears, as she closed the gap between them, taking her hands and pulling at the front of his shirt, "I can't live without you! He would have taken me back to..." Ansley stopped as she pulled her eyebrows together in confusion, could she really not remember where she was from?

Mac looked down at her nimble fingers tangled in the fabric of his dirty shirt; her nails caked with blood, her eyes scared and sincere. The way she chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes worriedly scanning his face over.

"Cupcake," he sighed, his face turning gentle, taking both of her bloody hands into his.

"I love you. I'd die for you. I'd do anything for you, _Papi_. I can't- I- I can't leave you," Ansley pleaded as she parted his arms and leaned into his broad chest, "Please say something."

Mac tightened his grip on her hands, "I know, Cupcake. I know. No one will ever take you from me. You're mine."

Ansley smiled, looking up into his eyes. The small part of her mind that was the least bit sane screamed at her, _Don't you remember what he did to you yesterday? He hit you across the face and busted your lip open. Again. _ Ansley just shook her head, hoping to quiet her mind's ramblings. Mac began to smooth the matted tangles surrounding her face.

"C'mere," he whispered, weaving his fingers along the side of her head, pulling her mouth to his. Mac was never gentle nor tender when he kissed her, he kissed her hard and long, with so much force she could always feel her lips beginning to bruise. The taste of his tongue no longer bothered Ansley. It comforted her. She couldn't remember the first time he actually kissed her. He had never kissed her during sex. _Rape, not sex, it's rape! _her mind shouted, she closed her eyes and swallowed away her mind's logic.

"Ugh, really?" Devon groaned as he returned to cave, witnessing his brother's intimacy with this _girl_. "Just the thought of someone sticking their tongue in your mouth, Mac...fucking sick, bro," Devon half chuckled.

Mac pulling Ansley's face away from his own, sneered at his younger sibling, "You get this fucking mess clean up, you hear me?"

"What-why me? It was your crazy bitch who did this!" Devon said, dropping two grocery bags full of ammonia and bleach.

"None of this would've happened if you coulda kept out of my business!" Mac pointed his finger a Devon.

"What do you expect to do about this?" Devon asked, motioning his head to the corpse on the dirt floor.

"Did ya get the tarp, fuck-ass?"

"Yeah, yeah, right here," Devon crouched pulled the rolled plastic out of one of the bags, handing it to Mac.

Mac spread the tarp out beside the deputy's dead body, "Cupcake, grab his legs, I'll grab his arms...we gotta slide him on here." Devon stood back and watched them struggle with the body while trying to hide his smug smile. It took Mac and Ansley several tries to get the body onto the middle of the tarp.

Standing up, Mac wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow, "Deputy Dead-As-Fuck ate one too many fucking donuts in his lifetime."

* * *

The Utah sky was clear and dark. The Canyon was quiet. Devon helped Mac drag the heavy tarp to the his truck across the red dust ground. Mac climbed up into the bed, pulling the dead body as Devon pushed standing at the tailgate. Both men were exhausted and frustrated. Mac pulled out his old-faithful tin from his back pocket, coating his teeth with meth.

"You stay here and clean up the blood," Mac said, jumping down from the truck.

"Who's gonna help you with the body?"

"Cupcake."

"I wish you'd stop calling her that...like she's a pet or something. You were supposed to fuck her and get rid of her, not keep her chained up like a puppy." Devon said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket.

"This coming from the guy who shoots up his own sister with heroin so he can keep her tied up so he can f-"

"Fuck _you_, man! Don't you fucking judge me!" Devon shouted, standing firm in one place. As much as Mac pissed him off, Devon always know a physical fight between them would result in Devon's being injured or possibly killed.

Mac smiled at Devon's anger, "Alright then, _baby bro_."

Mac made his way back through the cave, careful to avoid the pools of blood that decorated the ground. "Cupcake?"

Ansley sat atop a work table, fiddling with a gas mask. Her eyes lit up at the sound of his voice, "Yes, _Papi_?"

"C'mon, baby. You're going with Daddy tonight."

Dropping the gas mask, Ansley felt her heart sink, "Leave the cave? But-"

"I need you, you understand?"

Ansley nodded, "Yes."

"Good. We got to take that body down to the sinkhole. Afterwards, I'm taking you home."

"Home?" Ansley's eyes grew wide in fear, what did he mean by _home_?

"My house, Cupcake. They're going to be looking for that fucking cop. If they were to wander here and find you...well, I couldn't have that. I can always start a lab somewhere else, but I can't find myself another Cupcake."

Ansley smiled as if he were Prince Charming asking her to come live with him in his castle, "Okay."

Mac walked over to her, pulling his keychain from the pocket of his holey work jeans, unlocking the shackle around her ankle. He questioned why he had continued to keep her her chained up anyway. Her mind was nothing but rot from the abuse and the drugs. She wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

"He's too heavy!" Ansley whined, pulling the tarp.

"Shut the fuck up! Pull harder!" Mac angrily shouted, standing in his truck bed, pushing the tarp as hard as he could.

Mac questioned if bringing Ansley along was the best idea, he could feel his veins bulging from his neck.

"I can't," she strained, pulling the tarp even harder, eventually losing her grip and falling backwards onto the ground.

That was the final straw for Mac, he jumped down from the truck bed, and stood over Ansley for only a moment before jerking her up by her (his) coveralls, causing the material to rip from shoulder to waist. Ansley fell back again, propping herself up on her elbows, tears forming in her eyes. She hated to disappoint and upset him. He dropped the sliver of cloth, assessing her newly exposed skin. He could feel his cock twitch.

"Get up, Cupcake," he reached a hand down to her, which she gladly grasped.

As he pulled her up off the ground, "I'm sorry, _Papi_. I will try harder...I'm just-"

Mac ran his hand down her exposed side, "Shhh. You'll make it up to me later," he smirked.

Ansley meekly nodded. She felt Mac's hands around her waist, lifting her up, "Here you get up in the bed and push, I'll pull."

It took a good 20 minutes for them get the body down to the sinkhole. It never ceased to bewilder Mac how the earth could just swallow something up, one minute it's there then gulp! It's gone. The sinkhole has proven itself a safe and reliable hiding spot for all of Mac's evil deeds. Ansley couldn't watch the man disappear into the sand, to be lost and never found. _What if he had a wife? Kids?_ Her mind rang out, but she shoved the thought away as Mac took her by the hand to lead her back to the truck.

"Cupcake," Mac said as they approached the truck, giving her hand a little tug, "I just want you to know I'm proud of how you handled the situation today."

"Really?" Ansley smiled, bringing Mac's hand up her face and gently rubbing her cheek against it.

"Yeah, you did real good," Mac chuckled, pushing a crusty, bloody strand of hair out of Ansley's face.

"I was so scared you'd be mad at me," she sighed, looking away from him.

"Nah, baby girl. You made Daddy proud. I know I can trust you." Mac turned to the open truck gate, resting his palms on it.

"So does that mean Devon will stop shooting me up?" She asked as she came up beside him to look him in the eyes. Hers looked hopeful.

"Maybe." Mac said, not meaning it. The drugs had to have something to do with her current state of being. They had to. He knew she didn't really love him.

"Please! I don't like being high-" she was interrupted with a swift slap across her face.

"Hush now! I don't want to hear it. I know what's best for you, understand?!"

"Yes, _Papi_." Ansley hung her head, caressing the hot welt forming on her face.

There was something about her submission that Mac couldn't resist. It made his insides squirm and his dick harden. He didn't even mention one more word as he unzipped the front of her olive green coveralls.

"Off!" He shouted as he began to undo the button and zipper of his jeans.

Ansley wasted no time, pulling the coveralls down to her waist, covering her breasts with crossed arms. Mac's jeans pooled around his ankles.

"Uh uh!" Mac scolded, jerking her arms away from her tits, and yanking the coveralls down to her ankles. He grabbed her shoulders hard, flipping her around to face the truck bed. He ran his fingers up the nape of her neck, grabbing a fistful of her hair as he bent her over at a perfect 90-degree angle.

"Say it, Cupcake, say what I like to hear..." he whispered into her ear, his erection firm against the back of her thigh.

"I'm yours, Papi!"

"What's mine?!" He moaned into her ear, pulling her hair at the scalp, using his free hand to knead her nipples.

"My cunt!"

"Fucking right!" Mac growled, forcing himself inside of her, fast and hard. "Oh, this tight little pussy...oh, fuck, I love it!"

Ansley moaned, the fronts of her thighs pressing hard into the tailgate.

"Who's dirty little bitch are you?" Mac demanded, pushing into her hard and holding himself there.

"Yours!" Ansley whined.

Mac smiled, restarting his hard, vicious thrusts in and out of her, nipping at her neck with his rotten teeth, "Good girl," he breathed into her dampening skin.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Been having some writer's block. This is a short chapter. Hopefully it's not too disappointing!_

"I ain't a fucking babysitter, Mac!" Devon yelled, slamming the screen door to Mac's pile of sticks he called a house.

Devon paced the cluttered, unkempt front porch, seething. Pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket, his fingers shook as he tried lighting it. Bringing Mac that girl turned out to be more trouble than it was worth.

Mac stormed out onto the porch, "I don't want her being shot up anymore, ya understand?! I need somebody to look after her while I get Walter's orders caught up."

Pulling the still unlit cigarette from his lips, Devon rolled his eyes. "Why? You want her to start freaking out? Trying to escape? And when she does, it's your ass and my ass in prison for kidnap and rape!"

"She don't like it! The herion...she-" Mac yelled, kicking a beer can into the sorry excuse of a front lawn.

"Since when do we, or rather you, give a fuck what she wants?"

"I don't..." Mac's eyes looked uncertain. "I miss her having a little fight in her, ya know?" he shrugged.

"She sliced a grown man open like he was hot butter, Mac. I think she has plenty of fight in her." Devon finally lit his cigarette and took a long drag.

Mac stepped up to Devon, leaning in close, his eyes pointed, "I said don't fucking shoot her up again, do you fucking understand me?! I need you to keep an eye on her."

Devon screeched, unable to contain his anger and his disdain for his brother's relationship with this...pet of his, "I got my own problems at home, brother. Reggie? Remember? My sister? You should remember her fairly well considering you almost split her snatch in half!"

Mac stepped back, his face looking defeated. He clenched his teeth. Before he could speak he was interrupted by a gasp through the screen door.

"Cupcake!" Mac groaned as a tense, crying Ansley backed away from the screen door, collapsing onto Mac's dirty sofa.

"Oh, shit, here we go again..." Devon muttered under his breath, flicking his butt onto the ground.

"You shut the fuck up," Mac warned, reaching for the handle of the door. "You let me fucking handle this."

Ansley sat on the floral white and mauve sofa that was stained beyond saving, cupping her face into both of her hands. Her shoulders jerked as she silently sobbed.

Mac approached her with caution. She had been so out of sorts lately. He wouldn't admit to being scared of her, but maybe he was. Maybe that was the real reason he wanted the heroin to stop. He stooped down in front of her, his large hands resting on her knees, "Cupcake?"

Ansley rubbed her face over, and looked at him with her brown eyes glistening. Mac couldn't help but look the front of his dingy white wife beater she wore, along with some of his boxers.

"Look, what you heard out there-"

"Did you like her?"

Mac smirked, "What!? Is that what you're worried about?"

"Did. You. Like. Her?" Ansley pressed her lips together in a hard line.

"No. I didn't. I just did it because...I-I was high. I did it to hurt Devon." Mac rubbed his fingers over his lips.

"When you fuck me you're high, too." Her eyes became a cold glare, she was unconvinced.

Mac felt his anger welling up, "I'm always fuckin' high now! I meant that was my first time bein' high on meth!" He stood up, grabbing her shoulder hard, his fingertips boring into her skin. "I don't know what you think this here is. You are my fuckin' property. I'll do what I want when I want to, and you just have to fuckin' deal with it!" He pointed to the shackle around her ankle, "Mine, you're mine. Understand?"

"Yes," she whispered, not meeting his eyes.

Mac popped her across the face, just hard enough to make the flesh redden, "What was that? I couldn't hear you!"

Still not meeting his eyes, nor rubbing the handprint on her cheek, "Yes. _Papi_." She clicked her tongue.

"I don't like how you been actin' out here lately, Cupcake. Not one bit... Devon!" Mac called.

Devon opened the screen door and stood at the doorjamb, crossing his arms, "Yeah?"

"Cupcake here needs her _medicine_," he looked over his shoulder at his little brother. "She's been a very bad little girl."

"I figured you'd change your mind," Devon smirked, heading into the kitchen. Moments later he returned with the syringe and elastic band.

"No!" Ansley yelled, jumping up from the sofa, as Mac came in behind her and wrapped his arms around the outside of hers, holding her still.

"Shhh, baby, shhh. Daddy's here. Gonna have you feelin' good again, Cupcake," he whispered reassuringly into her hair, he took her wrist into his large hand, stretching her arm out for Devon.

When Devon pulled the needle back from her arm, the euphoria poured into her blood, running through her veins. Once again she felt warm and safe. Mac felt her immediately relax in his arms.

"Feelin' good, baby?" He asked, still holding her with one arm, as he brushed her brown tangles away from her shoulders, running his nose up the curve of her neck.

"Yeah, Daddy," she sighed, caressing his arm that was wrapped around her.

Devon stood with the syringe still in hand, "This is so sick, bro. So sick." Devon shuddered.

Mac glared at Devon from over Ansley's shoulder, "Fuck you. You really wanna talk about _sick_ with me?!"

Devon shrugged, "Nah, man," as he tossed the used syringe onto the cluttered, filthy coffee table.  
Mac, gently swaying Ansley in his arms, decided to announce an idea that had been dancing in his mind for a while, "I think I'm gonna let Cupcake help Daddy in the cave."

Devon furrowed his brows, "What?"

"Cupcake's gonna learn how to cook," Mac smiled, planting a small kiss on Ansley's shoulders, "You wanna do that, baby? Help Daddy out?"

"Anything for you, Papi. Anything," she smiled, leaning her head lazily back and pressing her cheek against his, "I love you."

"Yeah, I know," he whispered, an evil smile spreading across his face.


	6. Chapter 6

"What do you do for fun around here while loverboy is out making deliveries?" Devon asked, plopping down on the sofa beside Ansley.

"Nothing. Just wait on him to get back," Ansley nonchalantly replied as she picked at the track marks on her arm. Her dark hair rolled into a greasy, tangled bun, dressed in Mac's nicest wife beater and a pair of his boxer shorts. She was slouched down into the worn out cushions, her feet propped up alongside beer bottles, trash, and old titty magazines on the coffee table.

"That stuff really messes you up, huh?" Devon nodded at her arm, as his eyes proceeded to take in the rest of her. He slouched down, matching her posture.

"Yes."

Devon didn't feel bad for the girl, how could he? _If she was smart she wouldn't accept drinks from total strangers in a strange bar in a strange town that she had no business being in in the first place, _he reassured himself.

"Y'know, you should get Mac to buy you some decent clothes at least, and a bra," Devon's eyes diverted to her breasts, completely noticeable through the thin white fabric of the tank top.

Ansley crossed her arms over her chest, even high, she still felt uncomfortable around Devon.

"I could bring you some of Reggie's clothes, if you would like," Devon smirked, knowing just to mention Reggie made Ansley tense with jealousy.

"No, I'd rather you didn't," she sneered.

"Aw, Ans. Don't be like that. You're Mac's number one fuck. I haven't seen him get his dick sucked by a hooker in weeks, you must be doing something for him," Devon winked. "I ain't never seen him go so long with just one girl. Usually he's fucking anything in panties."

Ansley's jaw tensed. She couldn't understand why she felt this way. Was there even a tiny shred of sanity left in her warped mind? "H-how many women do you think he's been with since he's had me?"

"Not many, I mean, maybe 3 at most...but I haven't seen him with anyone in the past...6 months at least, I dunno, check his souvenir drawer," smiling on the inside, Devon knew exactly what he was doing.

"His what?"

"Oh, Mac. He does this nutty thing where he steals panties from the women he fucks," Devon chuckled.

Ansley immediately rose from the couch, making her way through the extremely unpleasant, stinking kitchen, to Mac's bedroom. The same old dirty mattress in the floor, the spider drawings scattered on the floor, and the chest of drawers in the corner that Ansley never bothered looking through...why would she? It was old, dusty, the wood had been chipped from all the corners, some of the knobs missing. Devon followed her, standing in the doorway, grimacing at the filth his brother called a boudoir.

Her nimble fingers trembled as she began pulling the creaking drawers open, one by one. Coveralls, wife beaters, pipes, more titty mags, and then finally as she perched herself on her knees, the bottom drawer. The drawer creaked heavily, and sure enough, there they were. Pinks, greens, whites, lacy, shiny, cotton...panties. Some severed at the sides, some still intact. Ansley's pulse raced.

"Aw, man, I guess he has been fucking a lot," Devon shrugged, trying to sound sincere.

Ansley turned to face him, "Mac...he...he doesn't love me, does he?"

"You're different...you are and he is different with you, but he's Mac. He's got a sexual appetite the size of Texas, babe."

Ansley's face crumpled in anger as she reached into the drawer, scooping up its entire contents with both hands, as she rose from her knees, hurrying past Devon in the doorway. Devon heard the groan of the backdoor opening as he rushed behind her.

He stood on the back porch steps as he watched the girl through the pile of underwear onto the red dirt ground, "Hey, you know Mac doesn't like you going outside! You'll end up with a chain on your ankle again, Ans."

"Shut up!" she screeched walking over to an out-of-commission grill, opening it and retrieving an old bottle lighter fluid. She walked back to the pile of women's panties and sprayed them down with the fluid, tossing the bottle to the side. She stormed back up to the porch outstretching her hand, "Your lighter! Give it!"

"What the fuck is this going to solve, Ansley?" Devon affronted.

"Just give it to me!" Ansley screamed, running her fingers through her tangled scalp as her hair came undone.

Devon tossed the lighter to her, as it barely missed her reach, landing on the ground. Ansley angrily swiped it up, walking back to the heap of cloth on the ground, picking up a familiar pair of a pink, see-through panties and setting it ablaze. She dropped it and with it the rest of the underclothes ignited. He couldn't believe what a mess this seemingly normal girl had to turned out to be. Was it the drugs? The sexual abuse? Or was she really just crazy?

Ansley stood, stoic, looking at the the flames. Her chest heaving. Her mind racing. For the first time, she actually yearned for the heroin.

"The fuck's going on out here?!" Mac yelled, swinging the back door open.

"Oh, man, didn't hear you pull up!" Devon jumped.

"What the fuck?" Mac asked again, jerking his chin towards Ansley and the flames.

"Bro...she found your, um, panty stash."

"For fuck's sake, Devon! You're supposed to watch her!" Mac said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Hey, how was I supposed to know she'd be lurking through your shit?"

Mac shoved Devon out of the way, making his way down the back porch steps to the trembling figure that stood before the fire. "Cupcake?" Mac asked her backside as gently as he could, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't!" she shrieked, jerking her shoulder away from his touch, turning around to face him.

"What the fuck is your problem, Cupcake?!" his voice quickly turning cold, as he gratingly grabbed her shoulder, his nubby nails piercing into her flesh.

"I can't believe you...you keep me prisoner, fuck me senseless, use me for your every whim and need...hell, I'm even cooking your meth for you now, and you still...you still have _others_?"

"Others?" Mac tried to be coy.

"Other lays...other fucks...other women! Why keep me here if I am obviously nothing to you!? What do I give you that you don't already get?!" She yelled, beating her hands on her chest, "Why keep me?!"

"What do you think this is, Cupcake? You think you're my girlfriend? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Mac chortled, slapping her across her face with such force it knocked her on the ground. Turning to face his brother, who was loving ever second of this...this drama, Mac yelled, "Has she been shot up today?"

"She's probably crashing...it's been about 2 days." Devon shrugged. "I'm out."

"Get more," Mac pointed a finger at his younger sibling.

"It's gonna be a day or two, supplier's out of town," Devon started.

"Get me something, I can't have her actin' like a fuckin' lunatic!"

Devon whipped out his cell phone, making his way back inside the house, yelling behind him, "Give me a hour."

Ansley regained her footing as she pulled herself up from the ground, dusting herself off, "A lunatic?! Fuck you, _Macerio_!" she screamed, pushing into his body with all the force she could muster.

Mac stumbled, but did not fall, as he finally lost his temper, grabbing the girl by the backs of her arms, "Yes, Cupcake, yes. Fuck me, that's exactly right. You're asking for it tonight! C'mon, you got me all riled up now!" Mac dragged the girl by her arms back into the house.

Ansley struggled under his grip as the stopped in the kitchen, Mac slammed her backwards into the counter, pressing hard into her, pinning her against the bar and himself.

"You ungrateful little bitch, I'm gonna teach you, baby girl. You gonna learn to respect me!" he said, unbuttoning his old, dirty coveralls.

"No!" Ansley squirmed against him, as his coveralls dropped to the floor, pooling around his ankles.

"Yes, Cupcake, yes," Mac groaned, as he stripped her lower half. "I may fuck other women, but their pussies don't compare to this one right here," he smiled, cupping his hand in between her thighs. "This one's mine and only mine!"

"You are such an asshole," Ansley growled, reluctantly becoming aroused at the pressure of Mac's hard member pushing against her.

"You are such a cunt," he threw back, grabbing a fistful of her unwashed tendrils and pulling down. "On your knees, cunt!" he demanded, pulling harder until Ansley went down as he had commanded.  
"No!" she threw up her hands in protest as she was eye-level with his hard-on.

"What?!" Mac yelled, grabbing the back of her head, "Open your fucking mouth if you want to live to see tomorrow!"

Ansley frowned but opened her mouth as Mac has instructed.

"Watch the teeth, Cupcake," he said, pulling her face into his crotch as her sweet, soft mouth took in every inch of him. "Yeah, baby. Nice and slow, just how Papi likes it," Mac sighed, thrusting in and out of her inlet. His grip on her head tightened as she swirled her tongue around the head and his tip, "Gah, baby, sometimes I think you were born to suck cock...mmm."

Mac felt himself nearing his release as he pulled his throbbing dick from between her two plump lips, "Stand up, Cupcake, stand up and spread 'em," he demanded, breathlessly, as Ansley rose up, leaning back up against the counter, hiking her leg up against him.

Mac wasted no time plunging into her soaking wet cavity, "Mmm, fuck, Cupcake, always so perfectly wet for Papi. Shit, I can't stay mad at my baby," he said into her ear as he began to vigorously thrust in and out of her.

"Fuck me harder," Ansley sighed.

"You don't tell Papi what to do," Mac grunted, placing his large hand around her throat. "You understand? I tell you what to do for me," his grip tightening around her windpipe, his hips still rocking hard against hers.

Ansley nodded as she felt the need for oxygen begin to grow, the ground feeling like it was leaving her feet, the delicious pressure forming under her navel, "Yes, Papi," she managed, her voice raspy.

"Come for me, Cupcake, come all over my cock," he hissed through is clenched black teeth, pushing into her as hard as he could, barely loosening his grip.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thanks again for all the comments! Sorry for the slow updates! Keep the awesome comments and suggestions coming, they are a big help! xo_

"Aw, what the fuck!" Devon griped, turning on his heel quickly.

Mac pulled out of Ansley, unpinning her from against the counter and releasing her neck, quickly pulling up his coveralls as Ansley slumped down the stained kitchen cabinets onto the floor, trying to find air.

"Thanks for the interruption, little brother..." Mac glared, still buttoning his coveralls, kicking the boxer shorts on the floor to Ansley.

"You wanted the dope, you got it," Devon replied, turning back around wagging a brown baggie in his hand, his eyes couldn't help but divert to the half-naked girl on the floor, not knowing how Mac noticed this.

"Get dressed, Cupcake. Now!" Mac shouted as Ansley languidly shimmied the shorts up her legs, pulling the elastic around her waist, never attempting to get up. Mac snatched the baggie from Devon's hand, "Thanks."

"You need me to _babysit_ this week?" Devon smirked, running his fingers over his lips.

"Maybe. Might have to ride out to New Mexico on Thursday to deliver some more meth for Walter," Mac sighed, reaching out one arm to prop against the counter.

"She okay?" Devon motioned his head to Ansley, "Good thing I interrupted your _love_ making session, you mighta killed her."

"She's fine! Aren't you, Cupcake?" Mac looked over his shoulder to her, as she weakly nodded. "See? She's fine," his voice was annoyed.

There was a long pause between the brothers, when Devon finally dismissed himself, "I better go. I had to get some more...medicine, for Reggie. She's probably real agitated."

"I can't believe you just leave her alone like that all the time," Mac shrugged.

"She's can't get away, I've got that house locked from the outside in and then some. Well, anyway, just get in touch with me if you need me to stop by. I'll babysit for my usual 20% of your and Walt's profit."

Mac grumbled but agreed, couldn't get much for free in this world.

* * *

"Regg, I'm home," Devon called out as he entered the home that once belonged to his mother.

Walking through the kitchen, he set his keys down on the table. The house was very quiet tonight as Devon entered the living room, as Reggie twitched and groaned in her sleep on the sofa. Devon sighed, making his way over to the girl, pushing a few sweaty strands of her hair from her face. Her body was soaked, she was crashing from the high, and hard. Her body was thin and very frail. Her once sunkissed glow was now pale and ashen. Devon questioned himself a million times if keeping her like this was the best thing, and a million times over he convinced himself he was completely sane. He was the only one who truly loved her and who could protect her from herself. Poor little Regina, always finding trouble.

Devon collapsed onto the suede Lay-Z-Boy, and grabbed the TV remote from the end table. Clicking on the TV, he turned the volume down low, so not to wake his resting sister. Flipping through the channels, Devon stopped, unable to believe his eyes. A newscaster, probably in his late thirties, behind the usual desk, in the usual suit and tie, was accompanied by a picture of a girl. Ansley.

_"Tonight the FBI are asking the public to help locate a missing Californian woman. Ansley Lombardi, 29, from Chula Vista, CA has been missing since October of 2011. She was last seen at a gas station in Pioche, Nevada. It is believed she was traveling back to Tennessee where Lombardi is originally from. This case has been featured on our news cast before, but the family has now decided to get the federal authorities involved, convinced that their daughter is still alive. Lombardi's family, Greco and Kelly Lombardi, of Memphis, TN are pleading to the public to help them find their missing daughter. They are offering a $25,000 reward for her safe return or firm information on her whereabouts."_

The screen cuts to a man, in his late fifties, salt and pepper hair. He has the same olive skin and brown eyes that Ansley does. _"We just want our baby girl home. We firmly believe that there is foul play involved, a possibility she is being held against her will...she would have contacted us otherwise. We have had people searching nationwide, including some of the best bounty hunters, if she were dead, we would have a body by now. We will not stop looking for her." _The screen switches back to the newscaster, _"The family wants it known that their daughter has struggled with psychosis and extreme depression; she needs proper medication to help keep the symptoms of these illnesses under control. Lombardi, who owns one of the biggest Harley-Davidson dealerships in the Southeast is willing to negotiate if money is the object. It is believed Ansley Lombardi could be almost anywhere in the country, as she travels freely between CA and TN often-"_ Click, the television was turned off.

Devon sat perfectly still in his chair, even laboring his breathing, unable to believe what he just watched. Dollar signs floated in his mind while the sickening fear rolled into him, "They're still looking for her?" he asked himself.


	8. Chapter 8

"C'mon, Cupcake," standing over her, Mac shook a sleeping Ansley. Her scantily clad body was becoming thinner, Mac noticed. She lay crumpled on the feculent couch. "I said wake up! We got some kilos to cook up down at the cave," Mac jerked her upright by her elbow.

Ansley rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust to the morning light, "Y-you're never up this early," she stammered.

"We are behind on orders, I don't need Walt coming and investigatin' why."

"He still hasn't found out about me?" Ansley looked up at Mac.

"No. He'd kill you and I can't have that...but he knows somethin's up. As long as I keep up with the business, he shouldn't nose around too much."

Ansley's heart slightly fluttered, _He does care about me. He doesn't want me dead. _She smiled as she rose from the couch, pulling down Mac's oversize t-shirt to cover her naked bottom.

"I reckon I need to get Devon to buy you some stuff for Thursday...can't have you stayin' at that motel half naked," Mac looked her over, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Can't have people questionin' anythin'."

"I don't understand why I can't go with you, _Papi_. I don't like staying with Devon, he...makes me uncomfortable," she hung her head like a disappointed child.

"You have a good way of findin' yourself in trouble, Cupcake. Don't need that while I'm out deliverin' drugs to a buncha ruthless wetbacks. Devon knows better than to lay a finger on ya, I'd kill him. He knows that snatch is mine."

"Yeah, okay, and I have to stay at a _motel_ with him..." She tensed her jaw and met Mac's eyes.

"It's only for two days. I can't have you here while I'm gone, it'd be the perfect opportunity for Walter to come nosin' around my house and the cave while I'm gone. Can't keep you at Devon's because your crazy ass'd probably kill Regina," Mac smiled crookedly at her. He secretly loved the thought of Ansley being jealous.

"I would not!" Ansley protested, balling her fists up by her side.

Mac stepped in closer to her, giving her a cheeky smile, running his hand up her bare thigh and stopping at the hem of the dirty t-shirt, "Go. Get dressed, Cupcake." Ansley's face automatically relaxed, smiling as she grabbed Mac's hand, trying to force it further up. "Not now, Cupcake...got shit to take care of," he chuckled, pulling his hand away as Ansley's lips formed a pouting face. _Man, I love the power I have over this bit_ch, he grinned to himself.

* * *

Sitting on the dirty futon mattress, Ansley opened packet after packet of Sudafed, carefully plucking the little red pills from their foil housing._**  
**_

"Here, put this on," Mac said through his gas mask, handing Ansley her own.

"How do I look?" she asked, after slipping the filthy, Soviet-era mask over her head.

"Gorgeous!" A voice answered from the entrance of the cave...Devon casually strolling in like he owned the place. Typical.

"'Bout time you got here, I need ya to get some shit done before I leave on Thursday," Mac grumbled from inside his mask. Ansley rolled her eyes, still not pleased with the arrangements.

Devon covered his nose with the collar of his green t-shirt, "Yeah, yeah...like what?"

Standing over his work table, lighting several camping burners, Mac shrugged, "Clothes. For Cupcake. Can't have her out and about in my coveralls, might raise some questions. I want you to keep a low a profile as possible, ya hear me? Get her to the motel and that's that. Don't leave the fucking room until I come for her on Sunday. Understand?"

"Consider it handled," Devon said, removing his shirt from his face and pulling out his cell phone. "Courtney? Hey baby!"

Mac and Ansley both looked up at Devon who shrugged and he turned around, facing the opening of the cave. "I got a favor to ask you, babe... Yeah... I need you to pick out some clothes, like the whole nine yards, for my cousin... Her apartment caught fire, she lost everything so the family and I are trying to get her set back up... Oh, she's fine, she's just staying with my, uh, half brother, who lives outside of town... Yeah... I'll text you her sizes... Just use the credit card I left you... Thanks, princess. I owe you one." He slid the cell back into the pocket of his pressed khakis.

"Courtney?" Mac's muffled voice spoke up first.

"What?" Devon said, placing his collar back over his nose.

"Whatta 'bout Regina?"

"Dude, don't question my morals," Devon's eyes redirect to Ansley, even with her face hidden behind the mask, Devon could see the anger welling up inside her as she practically ripped a box of pills in half.

"I ain't...just figured..." Mac trailed off, returning his attention to his meth making.

"Just figured, what? That I'm a one woman man? Pfft. C'mon, Mac...we both aren't any good at being satisfied with one woman. We got the one we wanna keep for ourselves and fuck the rest for fun," Devon smirked, knowing the trouble he was stirring up.

Ansley ripped the mask from her face, and jumped up on her feet, "Fuck you both!" she screamed, fists clenched. "You love to throw it in my face, don't you, Devon!?"

"What's that?" Devon, even though his mouth was covered, by the slitting of his eyes, Ansley knew that smug bastard was smiling.

"Cupcake-" Mac started.

"I'll fucking slit your sister's throat!" Ansley yelled, approaching Devon fast.

"Whoa, hey, I don't want any trouble, _Cupcake_," Devon said, dropping his shirt from his face to hold up his hands in surrender.

Ansley gave him a hard shove, "Fuck you. And don't call me that."

"Somebody needs their medicine," Devon chortled, looking over Ansley at Mac.

"Leave her alone, Dev. I fucking mean it!" Mac warned. "Y'all keep this shit up and I'll have to cancel going to New Mexico...which means Walter will beat my ass for it!"

"I wish you would, I don't want to stay with your fucking prick of a brother anyhow!" Ansley stomped her foot, like a petulant child. She made her way back to the futon and plopped down in anger.

"That hurts," Devon teased, placing his hands over his heart.

"Stop! For fuck's sake!" Mac yelled, exasperated, he pulled his gas mask off.

"Well, let's get down to business so I can get the fuck out of this shit hole," Devon sighed, retrieving his cell from his pocket. "What size clothes you wear, Ans?"

Crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, "Medium in shirts. Size five in pants."

"And..._brassieres_?" He said in a bad, cheesy French accent as he tapped the buttons on his phone.

Ansley huffed, "34D."

"Bet you have fun with those beach balls," Devon chuckled, looking up from his cell at Mac.

"Get the fuck out, Devon!" Mac threw a beaker at him, Devon barely dodging it as it crashed against the cave wall.

"Not nice, Mac. Remember who's going to be taking care of your precious pussy over there," Devon nodded at Ansley as he turned around to walk out.

* * *

The drive home was quiet, just the rumble of the old Ford humming. The Caineville sky was beginning to darken, yet always holding onto the red glare at the horizon. Ansley was still upset about Devon, about what he had said and the fact she would be staying alone with him for 3 days and 4 nights. She sat with her arms folded over her chest, her legs crossed, pressed as far against the truck door as she could go. Mac glanced over at her from time to time, wondering why he was even bothered that she was upset. The silence was interrupted by the squeal of a siren and the flashing of blue lights.

"Fuck!" Mac punched the steering wheel as he looked into his rearview, momentarily debating on trying to outrun the fucker or actually pull over.

Ansley started to panic, surely the cop would take one look at her and know something was up. The drugs, the sex, the violence...it had erased everything she knew from her former life. Being taken away from Mac and placed back into an unknown world terrified her.

"Calm the fuck down," Mac hissed, as he pulled over to the side of the road. "I recognize this fag. He's on Walter's payroll...let me do the talking." Mac watched from his side mirror the hefty, awkward deputy step out of his Crown Vic, placing his cowboy hat over his white-blonde hair.

Ansley shook, her hands clenched together tightly.

"What can I do ya for, Logan?" Mac asked the broad figure that appeared at his window.

"Just seeing what kind of trouble you were planning on causing today, Mac," Logan responded, pushing his aviators up the bridge of his nose.

"Just taking my _friend_ here home," Mac looked back at Ansley then returned his gaze to Logan, giving him a wink.

"Friend, eh?" Logan raised his chin to Ansley in attempt to acknowledge her. "Pretty lil' thang, ain't she? Ain't seen you around before, sweetheart...what's your name?"

Ansley shook her head, knowing it was in her best interest to say nothing.

"We really gotta get goin'-" Mac started but was interrupted as Logan threw his hand up, leaning in closer through the window.

"That ain't a hooker, Mac," he whispered.

"What the fuck you mean, course she is-"

"I seen her on the news. Name's Lombardi. Parents are real wealthy, looking for her...offering up a reward, but I reckon you don't know much about that, do ya?" Logan said quietly and gave Mac a wink. "Don't want your spic daddy finding that out, huh?"

Mac was shocked. He honestly had no idea. "What the fuck?" Mac muttered under his breath, looking back to his window, Logan had disappeared, making his way over the passenger's side door.

Opening the door, he looked Ansley up and down. Even in Mac's dirty coveralls, her hair a mess, her face dirty, she was still sight for sore eyes. "Step out of the vehicle, ma'am." Ansley looked back at Mac and he gave her a curt nod, though his jaw was tenses and his grip on the steering wheel was becoming painful. He couldn't risk Logan running off to Walter and running his mouth.

Ansley stepped out, still not speaking as Logan assessed her some more. "Hands on the hood of the truck," he said, giving Ansley a push against the Ford.

Mac's grip on the steering wheel became white-knuckled quick.

Ansley turned facing the hood of the old red truck, placing her palms on the hood. "Spread your legs, sweetheart," Logan demanded, "gotta make sure you don't have any weapons or drug paraphernalia on you."

Mac gritted his teeth, knowing Logan was abusing his power, Mac couldn't take much more.

Logan placed his hands on her waist, first patting down her legs, slowly, as he came back up he pushed himself against her, running his hands hard over her ass, "Nothing so far..." he teased. Ansley looked at Mac through the windshield, his face was disgusted, angry, primal.

Logan's hands ran up her sides and around her front, "Anything in the bra?" he said, caressing her breasts firmly. "Damn, girl. No bra?" he asked in her ear, she could feel his hard-on through his clothes.

Mac had enough. He exited his truck, fists clenched, as he walked to the front of the hood.

"Back in the truck, Mac," Logan warned, still pressed against Ansley.

"It ain't me you should worry about," Mac said as he slid his switchblade across the hood to Ansley.

Before he could even draw his gun, Ansley already had the switchblade buried in the hollow of Logan's throat. The young deputy pulled the knife away, dropping it, cupping his hands over his fresh wound. Unable to talk, unable to breath, he collapsed to his knees.

"I'm Mac's property, you understand?!" Ansley screamed, kicking the deputy in the stomach, causing him to fall over, still cupping his bloody piercing. Mac's cock twitched, seeing her so angry and obedient, he gnawed his bottom lip as she kicked at the deputy wildly.

Mac decided for once to be merciful, pulling Ansley back and drawing the gun from Logan's holster, shooting him once in the back of the head. Mac casually dropped the gun in the red dirt and retrieved his switchblade. He then turned around to face Ansley.

"Cupcake, you are...incredible," he breathed, snaking his hand around her neck and pulling her close to him.

"Yeah?" she smiled.

"Yeah, you been such a good girl for Daddy," he buried his face into the crook of her neck, as he pressed his erection against her thigh.

"No, I've been a bad girl," she argued playfully, tangling her hand in Mac's hair.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I want to be punished," Ansley whispered, catching Mac's earlobe between her teeth.

Mac stood up straight, grabbing Ansley by the crook of her elbow, leading her back over to the open passenger door of the Ford. He pulled his switchblade out, cutting open the front of the navy button-up coveralls Ansley wore from neck to waist, she let out a small gasp as he shoved her hard onto the bench seat. Using the incision of the fabric, Mac ripped the coveralls apart down to the crotch. Still standing at the passenger side door, he wasted no time to assault her already wet pussy with his mouth, his dirty tongue roughly massaging her throbbing clit. He ran his hands up her exposed front, stopping for only a second to pinch her nipple, making his way up to her neck where he grabbed tightly.

Pulling his face away from her soaked cunt, Mac growled, "You dirty fuckin' whore, what am I gonna do with you? Bad little girl gettin' off on fuckin' some poor guy up," using his free hand, he shoved two fingers deep inside her.

Ansley threw her head back as far as Mac's grip on her neck would allow, "Oh, Papi!" she squirmed in the bench seat.

"Yeah, you like that, little whore?" he curled his fingers inside her walls.

"Fucking love it..." she gasped, her nails raking over the fabric of the seat.

"Gonna come all over my hand?" he said, his fingers dancing wildly.

"Yeah!"

"Do it, fuckin' come right now, you dirty bitch!" Mac squeezed so hard on her neck he could feel her pulse struggling to pound against his hand.

Ansley reached down with one arm, trying to pull Mac's hand further up inside her, her cunt beginning to clench tightly, her other hand she used to claw at Mac's grip on her neck.

"I said fuckin' come!" Mac demanded, digging his nails into the tender flesh of her throat.

With that, Ansley let go, her juices flowing down Mac's hand and arm, as he let go of her neck. Ansley took in several deep breaths.

"You deserved every bit of that," Mac said, before licking his fingers.

Ansley was too tired to move, she just nodded happily as she stayed sprawled across the seat.

"C'mon, let's get you home. I'm not done yet. I'm gonna tie your sweet little ass up and fuck you until you bleed," Mac said propping his arm on the open truck window, his eyes darkening. He looked her over one more time as she lay there, exposed, her neck already showing signs of purple-red hand prints, but still with a blissful smile on her face.

_You're making me love you, _he thought to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

The morning light was barely peaking through the dirty window, too damn early for a phone call.

"The fuck?" Mac mumbled, wiping the drool from his chin, blindly searching the dirty mattress for the ringing cell phone that disrupted his sleep. He felt around on the floor beside him, grabbing the silver device.

"Fuck, Walter," he said to himself opening the clamshell.

"Yeah?"

"Macerio! ¿Qué demonios has hecho?"

"You know I don't understand that Spanish shit!"

"Logan! What happened to him? Devon said you made him take care of a body off the highway...a cop. What the fuck happened to him? You know I don't have many cops on my payroll and you want to fucking kill the ones I do have!

""He...he threatened me."

"Bullshit, Mac."

"Aw, fuck you! He did! Drew his gun-"

"You better stop fucking up, Macerio. Or I will take care of you myself." _Click_.

"Fuckin' spic," Mac snarled under his breath, throwing the already battered cell phone across the room. Mac threw his arm over his eyes, attempting to catch a few more hours of sleep. The hours went by too fast as he was once again woke up by the rapping on his bedroom door.

"What!?" he screeched, propping himself up on his elbows.

"It's me..." a quiet voice came from the other side.

"Yeah, Cupcake...come in," Mac sighed, laying back down and shutting his eyes.

Ansley slowly opened the door, "Hi Papi."

Mac bent his neck to look up at her. There she stood in a short, fitted yellow sundress, her breasts perky once again in a bra, her clean feet slipped into matching yellow wedges. Her dark hair was washed, shiny, and wavy. Had her eyes not been so dark, without the track marks scarring her arms, the crescent bruises from him biting her chest and shoulders, and Mac's fingerprints across her neck, she could have been an angel. Mac's dick hardened taking her in, imagining cutting that sundress off her body. His delight was immediately ruined as Devon popped up behind her in the doorway.

"Cleans up nice, doesn't she?" Devon said, glancing the girl up and down from behind. "Might not hurt to clean out that cesspool you call a shower every once in a while, Mac."

"Fuck, I just wanted her to have some jeans and t-shirt and she's got all this shit on," Mac frowned.

"Never give a girl a credit card," Devon shrugged.

"Well, I like it!" Ansley added, brushing her hands over the skirt of her new dress.

"Don't get used to it, that's all you're gonna get," Mac reminded her.

"Uh...Ans has enough clothes to last her for a while," Devon smirked, grabbing a tendril of Ansley's hair to her dismay. "She deserves it, for being such a good, good girl," Devon winked at his older brother.

"Don't touch her," Mac warned as Devon dropped the piece of Ansley's hair. "Well, can y'all get the fuck out so I can put on some clothes?"

Devon walked away, rolling his eyes as Ansley backed out of the doorway.

* * *

Ansley stood in the kitchen, rummaging through a stack of tweaker drawings on the counter as Devon sat at the kitchen table.

"This place is such a shit hole, I don't see how you don't go crazy being here," Devon said, pulling a cigarette out of one the packs Mac left laying around.

Ansley swallowed hard and looked at Devon, "He can't help it. Mac can't help what he does. He doesn't realize he's..."

"What? Living in shit?"

Thumbing through the drawings, picture after picture of spiders, webs, eyes, Ansley continued, "He's scarred. I hear him yell things out in his sleep. I watch him get up in the middle of the night and draw these things." At the bottom of the pile there was a picture, a beautifully drawn picture of a familiar face. It was Ansley.

"Mac can't use his daddy issues as an excuse for the shit he's done," Devon said, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. "You turned out to be quite the surprise yourself, when I picked you up in that bar, you seemed pretty normal...but you're far from it, aren't you?"

"I've had drugs forced down my throat for the past year," Ansley quickly covered up the picture of herself with the rest of the drawings. "You expect me to be _normal_? Is _Regina_ normal?"

Devon looked Ansley from toe to head, "No. She never has been. And never will be."

"Well, seems we have a lot in common, Regina and I," Ansley said, leaning against the counter, her jaw rigid as she bit her lips shut.

_Yeah, you do, _Devon's mind chimed in as he put out his smoke.

* * *

As Mac made his way into the kitchen, he could sense the tension in the air, "The fuck were you two talkin' about?" he asked, leaning against the counter beside Ansley.

"Our childhoods. You know, the usual," Devon rolled his eyes, lighting up another cigarette.

Mac reached out and cupped her chin as his eyes went over Ansley's face, "Cupcake?"

"Nothing, Papi," she whispered, looking away.

"Go find somethin' to do, me and Dev here need to have a lil' talk," he pushed himself off the bar and joined Devon at the filthy kitchen table.

Ansley left the kitchen, fists clenched.

"What was that about?" Mac said, grabbing a cig from his pack, "Dammit, quit takin' all my smokes, college boy."

"Nothing, seriously. Just talking."

"I'm beginnin' to wonder if I can trust you with her, Devon," Mac lit his smoke and took a drag.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"The way you look at her, talk to her, try to touch her...I don't like it one fucking bit," Mac exhaled, being eerily calm.

"I don't want none of your precious snatch," Devon, rolling his eyes, put out his second cigarette.

Taking another drag, Mac leaned in, "Tell me, Dev...did you think I wouldn't find out about the reward her folks are offerin' up for her return? You knew, didn't you? Thought me leavin' town would be the perfect opp-"

Devon's face turned into a mean sneer, cutting Mac off he gritted his teeth, "Fuck you, Mac. I would never do that."

"Why didn't you tell me you saw her on the fuckin' news?! You know I don't have a fuckin' TV or read the fuckin' newspaper!" Mac slammed his palm down on the table, crushing a fly in the process.

"You think I'm keeping shit from you? Just wait." Devon said, leaving the table to go out the backdoor, returning minutes later with something in hand. "Here," he said handing over a leather handbag to Mac.

Mac examined the object in his hand. A gray and pink leather handbag with a silver plate that read _Fendi_. "The fuck?" Mac crinkled his forehead in confusion.

"Look inside, it's hers," Devon said pulling out his chair and sitting back down at the table, "Been in the trunk of my car for the past year."

Mac opened the handbag and retrieved a pink leather wallet from the inside, opening it to find at least 20 credit cards and her driver's license. He pulled the small card from it's slot and looked it over.

_Ansley Mariah Lombardi, 106 Rancho Del Rey, Apartment D, Chula Vista, CA. Height 5'4", weight 122. Birthday 9-14-1983. _The picture of the girl on this license looked so incredibly different from that of the girl who had been his prisoner for the past year.  
Digging deeper into the wallet he found a picture of her...and some guy. Mac's nostrils flared in secret jealousy. Ansley, looking breathtaking in a long, fitted black evening gown. Her hair perfect and curly pinned atop her head. Her skin flawless, her teeth white. Her left hand resting gently on a tall gentleman with sandy blonde hair and green eyes. His smile perfect and surrounded by a goatee. His tuxedo accompanying her evening gown beautifully. Mac also noticed something on her hand, a ring. A diamond. A big one at that. Flipping the picture over it read in perfect handwriting, _Ansley and Harrison Engagement Party July 2011._ Mac crumpled the picture in his hand, his chest heaving in contempt. Shoving his hand back into the leather bag, he pulled out two quarter-full pill bottles. _Risperdal_ and _Demolox_, the bottles read.

"The fuck?" Mac said, looking up from the pill bottles and back to Devon.

"On the news, her parents said she needed her meds to keep her...sane, I guess. She has psychosis and major depression," Devon said, looking down. "Dad's a big shot, owns a lot of motorcycle dealerships. They were offering up 25 grand for her safe return."

Mac bit the inside of his cheek, "She's mine."

"Mac, it's 25 grand! She's already crazy so how could they believe a word she says? They'll see her track marks and think she just disappeared on a spur of the moment drug binge-"

Mac threw the pill bottles back into the bag, then proceeded to throw the handbag at Devon, "She. Is. Mine. You take that purse and get rid of it, I don't wanna know nothin' else about her."

Devon gripped the leather in his hand tightly, "You're making a huge mistake, man."

"Fuck you, I'm takin' Cupcake with me to New Mexico," Mac glared, putting his butt out in the ashtray.


	10. Chapter 10

The ten hour drive in Mac's old Ford was excruciating in the Mid-Western heat. Ansley could feel the agitation coursing through her, the heat setting fire to every last good nerve she had left. Her right index fingernail dug harshly into her left forearm, over and over.

"Stop that, Cupcake," Mac warned. Leaned back comfortably, he had one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging freely out the window. The wind blowing his sweaty brown locks.

"It's so fucking hot!" Ansley gritted her teeth, using both her hands to wipe over her sweaty face. "You're a fucking mechanic...can't you fix the damn air conditioner in this thing?!" She dangled both her arms out of the passenger's side window, resting her forehead against the door.

Mac switched hands on the steering wheel, using his right to grab Ansley's bicep to jerk her upright, "You best watch your pretty little mouth, bitch."

Ansley jerked her arm away from his grasp, slamming the back of her head against the rear window glass, mumbling to herself "All the fucking eyes are watching me and I can't breathe!"

Mac looked back to the girl who had her eyes closed. She had been without heroin for over 3 days, was she tweaking? Or did it have to do with what Devon said about her being mentally ill?

"Cupcake, snap out of it!" he demanded angrily, smacking his hand against the seat.

"Yes, Master," she mocked, opening her eyes, returning focus to the skin she was picking off her arm.

Mac grasped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, trying to ignore the strong desire he had to hit her. _You're softening up, Macky-boy, _even his own inner monologue was beginning to mock him. Mac licked over his teeth, trying to find that last trace of meth left in their crevices, internally wishing he had brought the heroin with him.

Ansley looked over at him, he looked so_...beautiful? How could you even use beautiful to describe him? _She shook her head at her own thoughts, they weren't too clear lately, and she knew why. She gnawed her lip, still picking her arm without even realizing it as she never took her gaze away from Mac. He was upset with her, and that was something she couldn't stand. Surely he'd get rid of her, too.

"Papi, I'm sorry, I just don't feel right," she spoke quietly, sliding closer to him on the bench seat.

"I realize that," he huffed, never looking away from the road.

"Please don't leave me," she reached out to put a hand on his thigh, admiring the way he looked with the wind blowing over his face and through his hair.

"Leave ya?" Mac finally looked at her, her eyes gleaming with tears. He quickly looked back to the road.

"They always leave. Always get rid of me...they always do," she said, giving his thigh a squeeze. She saw his cock jerk under his jeans which automatically made her ready for him, just the way he trained her.

"Then quit bein' such a bitch," Mac snarled, remembering who he was. This sounded an awful lot like boyfriend talk, and Mac most certainly was not a boyfriend. He did not want to ask questions and find out more about her...her _issues_. That was just more bullshit he didn't need in his life. _Gotta learn this bitch who's the boss._

"Yes, Papi," she breathed, leaning in close to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, licking the sweat droplets there, still rubbing her hand up and down his thigh.

"What the fuck, I'm drivin'! You want us to have a fuckin' wreck? With over 1000 kilos of crank in the back?!" he said, shimmying his shoulder to end her assault on his neck.

"Then pull over and fuck me," Ansley said, grabbing Mac's left hand and putting it under the skirt of her dress, pressing his fingers into the warm, wet fabric of her panties. "Fuck me real hard," she sighed into his ear, pressing his fingers even harder against her wetness. "Punish me, Papi. For being a bitch," she moaned into his ear as she rubbed his fingers up and down over her underwear.

_Gotta learn this bitch who's boss, Mac. You worryin' yourself over this girl too much. It don't make no sense, you don't love her. You could give two fucks if she died right now. You shoulda got rid of her after that first time like Devon told you to.  
_

Mac sneered at the fact he even considered _anything_ Devon told him to do. Mac was his own man, but his mind was right...Cupcake was doing something to him that he didn't like. Even though his dick was rock hard and ready to go, and he was practically salivating at the thought of pulling his Ford over, jerking her out of the cab, ripping her panties off, lifting that yellow dress up, and fucking her until she was incoherent, he looked over to her and shook his head. _No. _Pulling his hand away from Ansley, he felt his erection become painfully irritating._ But, what's the fun if she wants it? What's the fun if she's not beggin' me to stop? _He reached into his waistband and adjusted himself, trying to shut his mind off. _You've fucked her a lot for her enjoyment here lately, Mac. That's not you. That's not you...even if her tight little pussy feels better than all the meth in the world. _

Ansley slid back to the passenger's side, pressed against the door, not daring to speak another word. _Even a drug and sex addict doesn't want you. You're nothing, Ans. Nothing._

* * *

Ansley had drifted off to sleep, she woke with a start as Mac slammed the Ford into park.

"We're here," he said, not looking at her, getting out of the truck.

Ansley rubbed her eyes. Her mouth felt dry and her skin still hot. The Mid-West sun had set, and the sky was a beautiful pink to black painting. Looking over the building in front of her, Las Cruces Motel blinking in bright blue neon letters. It looked like a sleazy joint, but was probably a mansion compared to Mac's obscene dwelling.

Mac came around the truck, pausing at her window, "Get your bag and c'mon," he ordered, walking over to a room door. Room 6B.  
Ansley reached into the floorboard, retrieved her bag of clothes for the next few days, she reluctantly got out of the truck, following Mac to the room. It was just like the motel rooms you see on TV. Ugly brown carpets, drapes from the 70's, a squeaky ceiling fan, and a queen sized bed with a traditional wooden frame, cloaked in mustard yellow blankets and white sheets. The TV was small and outdated. Ansley glanced through an open door at the bathroom. It was small with a traditinal shower/tub combination, a small counter top, and leaky faucet. Ansley looked into oval mirror about the sink, not recognizing the girl who looked back at her, she quickly turned away. Mac laid across the bed on his back, stretching his arms above his head to where his red flannel shirt barely exposed his stomach, his jeans dirty and low on his hips. He closed his eyes. The drive had been long and tedious.

Ansley dropped her bag on the floor and sat on the bed beside Mac, still not speaking to him. She looked over to the bedside table, a digital clock read 2:18 AM in red glowing numerals.

Never opening his eyes he said, "You are not to leave this room unless I say so."

"Yes, Papi." Ansley laid beside him keeping just enough distance to wear they did not touch, closing her eyes also.

* * *

Mac start tweaking around 4 AM. He got up, breaking apart the alarm clock and trying to piece it together.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He repeated to himself.

Ansley laid still across the bed, pretending to be asleep. There was no reasoning with Mac when he was tweaking.

"I'm sorry for this. So sorry for it. I never meant to..." he ran his hands over his face repeatedly. "Never meant to."

Ansley shut her eyes tight, hoping that daylight would come quickly. And it did. When she opened them, it was 11:57. Mac must've fixed the clock. He laid sprawled across the floor, still in his dirty clothes from the day before. Ansley rose from across the bed, feeling the rough duvet sticking to her sweaty back. She remembered there was a working, clean shower. A bathtub. One of the luxuries that was few and far between at Mac's.

Tiptoeing around Mac, she made her way into the bathroom, running the tub a little more than half full. Stripping down her sundress, her panties and bra. She looked at herself again in the mirror. _Who is this girl? Who is she? Not Ansley. Not Ansley Lom...Lom... You don't remember do you?_

Ansley shook her head, clearing the thoughts away again. She stepped over into the tub, lowering herself down into the soothing lukewarm bath. She laid back, just her face sticking out from under the water. She stayed just like that for what felt like hours, finally submerging her face under. She felt a familiar hand on her knee, sliding it's way up the inside of her thigh. Raising up from the water, she wiped the droplets from around her eyes to see Mac kneeling at the tub.

"Mornin' Cupcake," he said, looking over her soaked naked body.

"Hi," she smiled, using her hands to slick her wet hair back.

Mac's hand rested underwater, right at the apex of her thigh. He licked his lips, "You look good enough to eat."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah," he growled, taking his fingertip and sliding it over her slit, ignoring that mocking voice in his head. _You want her so bad. You can't bear not having her. You're whipped. You're whipped. You pussy. She's supposed to be a toy, not your girl. _

"Eat me up," she purred, sitting upright, shifting her hips, hoping he would slide his fingers inside of her.

"Later," he promised, removing his hand and getting up from his knees. "I gotta go talk business with them wetbacks."

Ansley laid back into the water, pouting, "Okay."

Mac reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a cigarette, before putting it to his lips, he cautioned "You don't leave this fucking room. Nobody knows you're in here and it needs to stay that way. If I find out you do, there'll be hell to pay on your part, Cupcake."

"Yes, Papi," she said, placing her feet up on the wall.

Mac turned on his heel, once again sticking his hand down into his jeans to readjust his erection. Walking out the door he called behind him, "You know where the .38 is if you need it."

Ansley bopped her head against the wall, realizing this trip was not a vacation.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thanks for all the comments and for all the reads! You guys are awesome! Feedback helps so much :)_

* * *

After a long drive, Mac feared he was stood up by the wetbacks. No one showed up until 6:30, when a large, black SUV pulled up to the building. Mac watched as 7 men and one woman made their way into the bar. Mac sat in the darkening parking lot of the El Agujero bar for several minutes before finally getting out. His hands shook. He hated dealing with the Mexican cartel. They were even more ruthless than his spic father, maybe even more ruthless than himself.

Finally exiting his truck, he made his way inside the nearly empty, smoke filled bar. The atmosphere was dirty and grimy, the kind of air you walk into that made you feel like you immediately needed a hot shower. Mac pulled his rolled shirt sleeves down, covering his tweaker scars, as he walked past the bar into a back room. Several Mexican men sat gathered around the table while two stood guard at the door. Most of them Mac's age, a few a little older with salt and pepper hair. They were all dressed casually (still nicer than Mac, however), except for El León, the ring leader. He was dressed in his best suit, his black hair slicked back. His mustache perfectly waxed into a handlebar. Sitting at the head of the table, surrounded by his henchmen, who all had no problem showing their pistols strapped at their sides. Mac's hands continued to shake. He wished like hell he was high.

"Welcome Macerio, sit," El León motioned to a chair beside him.

Mac nodded, pulling the wooden chair out and sitting down.

A taller henchmen stood behind him, "Todas las armas?"

Mac cocked his head in confusion, "I don't speak Spanish."

"What a shame, Macerio. Walter never bothered to teach you his native tongue?" El León ran his fingertip over his mustache.

"Never bothered to learn," Mac spat.

"Javier asked if you are armed," El León raised his eyebrows.

"Nah, I'm not," Mac said, sliding back from the table and lifting his flannel up to expose his stomach. "I got nothin'."

"Nuestro amigo no está armado. Sabia elección, " El León winked to his henchman who resumed his spot beside the entry door.

Mac shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I got your 1000 kilos, I assume you worked out a price with Walter."

"Yes, we did. $450,000," El León said, as one of the door henchmen came over placing a suitcase on the table. "But, there are a few rules."

"Oh?" Mac said, leaning back in the chair.

"Yes. Our business is suffering greatly. Our profits were over 300 million last year, this year we have only made 82 million."

_How tragic_, Mac thought.

"A new drug lord in the Southeast is trading with the Gypsy Jokers. Hiding behind some motorcycle dealership facade, he is trafficking meth and cocaine throughout the US, invading _our_ territory. We ask your father to not trade with anyone but us. Your product is above average quality and we need to keep business steady until we can take out this mystery drug lord. Do we have a deal?" El León stuck his hand out to Mac as the men around the table nodded and chatted amongst themselves in foreign words that Mac could not understand.

Mac bit his lip, wondering why his father always sent him to do all the dirty work. Mac shook El León's hand, "Deal. No one but you." Suddenly a jolt of electricity ran up his spine when he remembered Devon's words: _Dad's a big shot, owns a lot of motorcycle dealerships. _

"Excellent, Macerio. We will need 1000 more kilos in a few weeks. Wait for instructions, until then, happy manufacturing," he held his hands out to dismiss Mac.

As Mac stood up to leave, El León spoke again, "Leave your truck. My transporter will not be here until morning, your truck will be safely returned to you, along with the suitcase. Can't have you driving around with that much product on you. Paloma will take you home, I'm sure you remember her well?" El León winked, "Enjoy."

Mac wrung his hands together. Sure he remembered Paloma, the cartel whore. She sucked him off real good a few times on his visits, but this time it was different for him. This time a lot of things were different. This time he could really be in danger.

_You act different, they'll suspect something. They'll kill you and take her, use her, do worse to her than what you did.  
_

Mac hurried out of the bar, as the cool desert air hit his face, he took in a deep breath. Ansley's father was a drug lord. A competitor. His heart was racing. Devon, always fucking things up.

"Hola, Macerio," a thick Spanish accent spoke up from the dark parking lot.

"Paloma," Mac nodded to acknowledge the middle-aged Latina.

Paloma Abreu was the cartel whore, using what was between her legs to create new business deals...and to end old ones. While not completely unfortunate looking, her face was still aged. Smoker's lines wrinkled her light brown lips, crows feet made her near-black eyes look twice as old as they were. Her jet black hair was kinky and wild. She had a bit of a gut on her, which were always presumed to be a repercussion of countless miscarriages and abortions. Her tits were large but saggy. She wore a low cut black top that laced up the front and jeans that were too tight. Her dry, ashen feet crammed into heels not even suitable for a stripper. Once being with a girl like Ansley, it made all the others look like chopped liver.

"For you, _Papi_," she smiled, handing him a flask of whiskey.

"Mac, just call me Mac," Mac internally grimaced, almost ashamed this woman was calling him by what he forced his Cupcake to call him.

"Well, Mac, shall we...?" Paloma gestured to a black town car behind her.

"Yeah," he said, opening the flask and taking a deep swig, hoping to get drunk before she could put the moves on him.

* * *

Ansley laid across the bed in her black camisole and panties. The air conditioning in the motel was a joke. She draped her arm over her eyes as her thoughts raced than she could decipher them. She knew the depression and psychosis was invading her once again, with no scripts or heroin to keep them at bay. She trailed her arm down to her mouth where she bit down hard, stiffing sobs that came out of nowhere. She didn't know why she was crying, but knew she had every reason in the world to.

Ansley pushed herself off the bed and walked into the bathroom, drenching her hot, tear soaked face in cool water and grabbing some toilet paper to blow her nose. She sat on the toilet cupping her face into her hands. _What was life like before? Luxury. All the luxury. At what cost, Ans? _

Her solace was quickly interrupted by the sound of two car doors slamming right outside. Ansley rushed to the peephole at the door. Mac was leaned against a Lincoln town car, a flask turned practically upside down at his lips. A woman pressed herself against him, running her hands up his leg and over his crotch.

The world exploded around Ansley. Her chest heaved, her palms broke into a sweat, she felt her gentle face turn into a demonic sneer. She turned on her heel to the bed, stooping down and grabbing a wad of clothing and the .38 from underneath. She held the gun in her hand for a moment, before racing into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Ansley pressed her ear against the door as she heard the fumbling of keys and the stumble of feet enter the room.

Mac knew bringing Paloma in was a bad idea, he could only hope Ansley knew to stay out of sight. The short Latina grabbed Mac by the hand, leading him over to the bed. He instantly reached for his tin on the bedside table, wasting no time in spreading it over his teeth and palate.

Paloma knelt between his legs alongside the bed, undoing his zipper. Mac clenched his eyes shut tight. _Cupcake, stay out of sight. Stay out of sight. Act natural, Mac. They'll kill us both. _

His pattern of thinking was derailed when a familiar _click_ drew his attention to the outside of the bathroom door. A phantom in a gas mask with black lacy panties and a tiny black camisole barely covering her delectable body. In her hands was the .38, aimed directly at Paloma's head.

"Off your knees, cunt!" the gas mask phantom demanded.

"Mac, what the fuck!" Paloma said, pulling herself up on Mac's kneecaps.

"Cupcake, don't be stupid!" Mac warned, standing up.

"Cupcake? Who the fuck-" Paloma started.

"You don't worry about who the fuck I am!" she menacingly thrust the gun in Paloma's direction.

"She's on a bad trip, you better get the fuck out if ya know what's good for ya," Mac said, giving the Latina a little push.

"I'm going, I'm going," Paloma said, holding her hands up in surrender, walking backwards to the door.

"Not fast enough!" the gas masked girl threatened, shooting a hole into the floor just a foot away from Paloma.

"Cupcake!" Mac scolded, his voice shaking. Even he was a little nervous.

"Fuck you, Mac!" she directed at him, still not lowering her gun to the frightened Latina woman.

"I'm going!" Paloma said, reaching for the doorknob cautiously. Within a second she was gone and the Lincoln peeled out of the parking lot.

Ansley finally lowered the gun, turning to face Mac. Holding the gun in her left, she ripped off the gas mask with her right hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Crazy fuckin' bitch!" Mac spat at her, still not moving.

"You afraid, Daddy?" Ansley whispered, cocking her head to the side and raising the gun at him.

_She's gone off the deep end. She's going to kill you for everything you did to her. _"This ain't funny," Mac said, clenching his fists at his sides.

"On the bed, Mac!" Ansley said, still aiming the gun right at him.

Mac held his hands up in submission as he sat down on the bed, his jeans still unfastened. "You gonna kill me?"

Ansley's lips curved upward as she stepped in close to him, raising the gun and pressing it to his temple. She stood just like that for a moment, until she pushed him back on the bed, climbing onto him and straddling his lap. The gun still against his head, Ansley leaned down and licked over his lips, tasting the faint chemical trace of meth.

"Mmm," Ansley teased, looking Mac in the eye.

"What the fuck, Cupcake?" Mac scowled, his eyes darting to the gun at the side of his head.

"Take off your clothes," Ansley said, pressing the barrel hard into his skin, raising up off him enough so he could get his bottoms off and leaning back enough for him to remove his flannel button-up. His cock was erect and throbbing. He had never been more turned on by a woman in his life.

_You lettin' this lil' bitch pussy whip ya? _Mac closed his eyes and forced the thought away. He had never, ever let a woman take control of him. He had never even let a woman be on top of him.

Ansley trailed the gun barrel down his jawline, stopping below his chin, never lessening the pressure of the metal on his skin. "Take off my panties, Macerio."

"Yes, ma'am," Mac smiled his black smile as he hooked his fingers in the sides of the black lace as Ansley shifted her weight to each side so he could shimmy the lacy panties off of her legs. Once they were off, he wadded the wet material into his fist resisting the urge to bring them to his face to breathe in.

"Any last words?" Ansley said, digging the gun deep into his throat.

Mac struggled to speak, "What?"

Ansley pulled the trigger and it was followed by an empty _click_. She smiled slyly, finally tossing the gun aside on the bed. She leaned down to his mouth and kissed him hard, trailing her nails up and down his chest.

"Fuckin' crazy bitch," Mac muttered into the kiss, running his palms over her smooth sides and grasping onto her hips.

"Fucking prick," Ansley said, sitting up and smacking him across the face. "Fucking asshole is what you are, Mac!"

Mac's cock jerked at the sting of the slap. Ansley grinned noticing this and slapped him again, "Fuck you for bringing that whore here, I should have killed you both."

"Jealous, Cupcake?" Mac raised an eyebrow as he cupped her ass in his hands.

Ansley reached behind her, grabbing Mac's thick member in her hand, "Mine. My property."

"Make it yours then, fuckin' ride me, you dirty little bitch. Let's see what you got," Mac said, grabbing hard into her ass cheeks. Mac's curiosity only aroused him more...why was he enjoying this so much?

Ansley scooted down his body, leaving a light, wet trace of her juices down his stomach, as she settled herself at the right angle to get him inside of her. Placing his head at her entrance, she slowly slid down, digging her nails into his chest and softly moaning. Mac's leg muscles twitched at the feeling of her tight, dripping walls enveloping him. She sat there for a moment, adjusting to his size, purposely clenching herself around him while he squirmed underneath her.

Bracing her palms on his chest, she began to bounce up, down and back, forth. Mac closed his eyes and forced his head down hard into the mattress, wanting so much not to moan.

_She's breaking you. All those walls you built. This isn't you, Mac. This isn't you. Flip her over and fuck her so hard she cries. So hard she begs you to stop. Black her eye, bloody her lip. Tell her who's the boss.  
_

When he opened them, he saw those precious tits bouncing with every rock of her hips. "Oh, fuck...oh, fuck, you little slut," he sighed, reaching up and cupping each breast in his large palms.

Ansley pressed her cunt hard into him, letting out a harsh growl.

Mac couldn't stand the pleasure as he began bucking his hips wildly underneath her, causing her tits to bounce even more while she screamed out, reaching behind her and digging her nails into his thighs.

"You're not fucking me hard enough!" she demanded.

"That's a first," Mac responded breathlessly, his back arching vivaciously off the bed as he slammed into her as hard as he could.

"I want you to devour me, Papi. Take everything. Put me on the verge of death and bring me back," she said, leaning down and kissing him so deep it made his dick contort inside of her.

_No kissing during sex. No kissing, Mac. What the fuck are you doing?_

"Fuck," Mac breathed, stopping the kiss while reaching around and grabbing her hair, making her neck arch. That beautiful neck.

Ansley tensed as she felt Mac's facial hair scrub against the curve of her neck, preparing herself for a shocking bite, but instead he gently sucked, caressing the flesh with his tongue. Her body broke into goosebumps. This was not like him.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly, as he continued his thrusts under her.

"You're fucking beautiful," Mac said into her neck, licking down to her collar bone.

Ansley pushed back from him, "What?!"

Mac tangled his hand further into her hair and jerked hard, "I said you're fucking beautiful, Ansley." _What the fuck are you saying? What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?!_

"No, you can't-" Ansley said, throwing herself off of him onto her back, placing the pads of her thumbs over her eyes. Her chest heaved.

"What the fuck, Ans! I haven't even came yet!" Mac snarled, immediately flipping over and mounting her.

"It's Cupcake!" Ansley hissed as Mac slid his cock back into her, restarting his rough pounding against that precious tight pussy.

"Cupcake, my fucking Cupcake," he said wrapping his hands around her throat. He bit his lips together, what was he doing? His mind and heart at full blown war. He thrust into her hard, reaching down with one hand and thumbing her clit as she clawed the bed sheets above her head.

"Yeah, Papi...just like that," she writhed, her legs beginning to tremble, wrapping around his waist.

"I don't want to love you! I don't!" Mac warned in her ear, clenching harder around her throat.

Ansley gasped as his grip was tighter on her airway than it ever had been, she felt her eyes bulge and the blood drain from her face. She was so close to that delicious edge, but panic was quickly welling up as no air was being exchanged. She began to claw at his arm for him to stop.

"I don't want to love you!" Mac's look of desire and lust faded into that of horror, he was truly scared. He drew his hand from her nub, still slamming his hips in between her thighs. "You're making me love you! Why!?" He even swallowed back a tearful sob. "I don't want to fucking love you!" he screamed, pressing even harder into her neck, forcing her head into the soft mattress. "Everything I love dies!"


	12. Chapter 12

_"You're wearing the Armani strapless, Ansley. I don't want to hear another word about it," the small blonde woman glared up from her glass of wine._

_Another dreadful mother-daughter date. The La Cave à Vin restaurant was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Ansley stared down at the white tablecloth, "Yes, Mom. I very much like the Armani strapless," she replied in a monotone, careless voice._

_"So, will you be moving to Harrison's home in Calabasas?" Kelly Lombardi asked her daughter, retrieving the wine from the ice bucket at the table. "You know, real estate in Bel Air is becoming quite poplular. You really need to get serious, Ansley. The wedding is only a few months away."_

_"Nine months, Mom. Nine." Ansley ran her hands over the knees her designer jeans. _

_"And it will fly by! __ You know, once the wedding is over, your father and I are moving to that estate we bought in Tennessee, you better take this time enjoy being with your family."_

_"You remind me everyday."_

_"Harrison is a catch, honey. He chose you. Don't fuck this up, please. Don't be like me, stuck with a motorcycle salesman," the blonde scoffed, taking another sip from her wine glass._

_"Dad has more money than we will ever be able to spend in a lifetime," Ansley sneered at the audacity of the woman who gave birth to her._

_"I'm just saying, Harrison is someone to be proud of...he's accomplished so much at his young age. And you need to snap out of this whole depression thing, Ansley. It's getting old. I'm starting to think your doctor is a phoney, diagnosing you with all this mental stuff."_

_"I am proud of him, Mother," Ansley gritted her teeth, reaching for her Fendi purse._

_"And where are you going, dear?"_

_"To Harrison's." Ansley said, jumping up from the padded dining chair and making her way across the restaurant._

_"I raised such a strange girl," Kelly told herself as she rolled her eyes, finishing off her last drop of wine as she watched her only child walk out._

* * *

_Laying naked and still across his chest, Harrison trailed his hands down the curve of her back, his face nuzzled atop her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair._

_"Don't let your mother get to you, Ans," he said._

_"She is pretentious and insulting," Ansley replied, "I can't stand her. I'm so glad I'm more like my dad than her. She just pisses me off beyond words."_

_"So that's where all the rough stuff came from today?" Harrison had a trace of a laugh in his voice._

_"What?" Ansley lifted her head from his chest to look into his green eyes._

_"You just barge in here like a cavewoman, 'Sex! Now!' then you proceed to bite me and claw me up like a rabid house cat," he smiled._

_"You don't like it rough?" Ansley giggled._

_"Honestly, no. I don't see why you do. It's a little barbaric."_

_Ansley's giggle turned into a stern expression, "Oh. Well, I'm sorry," she vacantly replied rolling off of him and wrapping herself up in his expensive, white Egyptian cotton sheets, throwing her legs off of the side of the bed and searching the floor for her bras and panties._

_"Really, Ans? You're going to leave?"_

_"Since I'm such a barbarian-"_

_"Don't act so childish, I was just being honest with you!"_

_"And I was being honest with you. I like pain, it gives me something to feel!" Ansley clenched her jaw tight, burying her face into her hands. "It gives me something to feel."_

_"Have you taken your Demolox today?"_

_"No."_

_"Ansley! Really?! You fucking promised!" Harrison shouted, hopping out of the opposite side of the bed and making his way around the bedroom to the bathroom door._

_"You don't struggle with what I do," Ansley whispered, keeping her eyes on the floor, wrapping the sheets tighter around her body. _

_"I struggle with you being a lunatic!" Harrison spit, entering his bathroom and slamming the door. He called from the other side, "When you can actually be a responsible adult and take your meds, then you can come back. Until then, go." The door slams.  
_

_Ansley pulled her hands from her face, looking at the 2 karat diamond on her finger. Just an anchor, dragging her down, drowning her._

_"Harrison?"_

_No answer._

_"Harrison!"_

_Nothing._


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Someone PM'd me and asked about faceclaims for reoccuring characters. So here you go...we all know Mac, Devon, Reggie, and Walter. Ansley: Mila Kunis; Harrison: Jensen Ackles; Kelly (Ansley's mother): Rebecca De Mornay; Greco (Ansley's father): David Stathairn._

* * *

"Harrison, I'm sorry!" Ansley cried out in a strained voice, sitting straight up in the bed. Her naked body covered in sweat. She placed a hand over her throat, it was so sore. Every muscle in her neck throbbed. It hurt to swallow. She searched the motel room with her eyes, suddenly remembering where she was and who she was with when the piercing blue eyes met hers. Mac stood a the foot of the bed, drinking what was life of half a bottle of Jameson, his eyes never dropping from her gaze. His skin was clean for once, wearing only his jeans. Ansley noticed two new tweaker wounds on his left shoulder.

Mac cracked his neck, his face turned into a tense glower. "Mornin'," his voice ominous as he clenched his fists together.

"Wh-what happened?" Ansley labored from her dry lips.

"Damn near killed ya," Mac answered, unsympathetically, setting the empty bottle on top of the TV.

Ansley closed her eyes and searched her sailing mind for her last conscious memory. A vision of Mac on top of her, fucking her without mercy, his hands gripped around her neck as she clawed at his strong arms searching for air. His pained voice screaming, _I don't want to love you! Everything I love dies! _Ansley swallowed hard and opened her eyes, "I didn't die. So what does that mean?"

"Don't riddle me, Cupcake, don't you dare!" He screeched.

"I'm just trying to understand, Papi!" Ansley whispered loudly through her injured windpipe, pulling the sheet up over her exposed breasts.

Mac climbed onto the bed, settling right next to her and grabbing her chin, "You help me understand something, Cupcake...who the fuck is Harrison?!" Mac already knew but he needed her admission.

Ansley crumpled her eyebrows, her brown doe eyes glaring deep into Mac, "Why is it even important now?"

"Because I said it fucking is," Mac harshly whispered, never easing his grip on her face.

"He was my fiancee," Ansley tried pulling her face away, afraid Mac would strike her.

Instead she saw something in his eyes she had never seen before. She couldn't put her finger on it...was it resentment? Jealousy? _Hurt_?

Mac closed his eyes, his nostril flaring. Hearing those words and remembering the picture, he felt something he never had felt. Harrison and his perfect face, his perfect teeth, his perfect fucking life. Harrison. Devon. Fuckers like that always having it easy. Always having the good life. Getting to have someone. Walter would never allow Mac to have anyone, Walter never did. _Everything I love dies._

Mac took a deep breath before opening his eyes, not noticing how his grip on Ansley's face had gotten tighter as she whimpered under his strong touch. "You're mine now. That's all that matters."

"Yours," Ansley repeated, hot tears filling her eyes. She didn't know why she was crying. Out of despondency? Or was it because some of her life was coming back to her? A life she hated. A life she wanted to forget. What was worse...the burdens of her family or being prisoner to someone who was more like her than cared to admit to herself?

"My property. To do what I want with," Mac nuzzled his nose into her cheek, his grip still tight on her mandible, trailing his nose across her face and finding her lips with his own.

Mac pulled away from her face and releasing her it, "The Mexicans dropped my truck off and the cash this morning, we can head out early tomorrow."

"Okay," Ansley nodded. "Let's take the money and run, Papi."

"What the fuck?" Mac nearly chuckled, "I know you're crazy but you got to be really fucking crazy to think that, Cupcake."

"Get away from Walter, from Devon. Start somewhere else. Be someone else."

"I can't," Mac sneered. "He'll find me. Us. He'll kill you and do even worse to me."

"Tell me about him, Mac. Tell me what he did to you to make you this way," Ansley's eyes pleaded with him.

Mac turned his legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, shaking his head, "No. Fuck no."

"You nearly killed me, you screamed over and over you didn't want to love me because everything you love dies, I remember!" Ansley argued, her voice getting louder and her grip on the bedsheets getting firmer, knotting the fabric up in her grasp.

"I don't fucking love you!" Mac screamed behind him, smacking his forehead with the palms of his hands.

"What did he do to you!?" Ansley climbed out from the sheets, still naked, wrapping her arms around her captor, her rapist.

Mac was quiet for several minutes. Ansley stayed quiet, still holding him.

Finally... "Fucking killed my mom right in front of me. Slit her fucking throat! Right then and there, she just bled out...he told me to go to my room or he would gut me from nose to navel," Mac drug his nubby nails over his face. "I don't know why he did...I was too lil'. I think she found the cave...that cave, it fucks us all! It fucks us all!" He gnashed his teeth together.

Ansley pressed her lips to his shoulder, unsure of what to say.

"I had a dog one time...I was 14...sumbitch had me cookin' meth at 14! Didn't finish an order on time, came home and found my dog gutted in the back yard...intestines strung around him like-"

"Spider legs?" Ansley piped up.

"Spider legs," Mac repeated, taking in a deep breath. "Tried to fight him...Walter. That's how I got this," Mac pointed to a barely noticeable white scar on his neck right behind his left ear. "Tried to beat my face in with a beer bottle."

Ansley's naked chest heaved against Mac's back. She was crazy, that was true. She had her own demons. Most days she forgot she killed two cops single-handedly, one deserving it and the other one not. The monster, the man, wrapped in her arms made her feels things. A lifetime of being lost and emotionally vacant, longing to feel something...here he was, making her feel everything. Hate. Fear. Pain. Pleasure. Love?


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Kind of had a little brain fart with this chapter...but it's pretty smutty, so enjoy! Hopefully I can overcome this writer's block and take this story where I want it to go!_

* * *

His teeth sunk deep into the tender flesh of her abdomen, drawing blood. She screamed out as her back arched high off of the bed.

"Mmm, Papi!" She cried, her nails raking over his shoulders.

Mac licked the fresh wound, "You like that?" He looked up at her still caressing his tongue over the smooth skin of her stomach, her perfect upper body completely exposed.

Ansley peered down at him, smiling, her tongue running over her bottom lip. She gave him a sly nod.

Here he was, on his dirty excuse for a bed, in his boxers, practically goofing around. _Mac. Goofing around?_

Mac thought back to the conversation they had on the way home from New Mexico.

_"You're a freak, I'm a freak." Ansley said, her arms tight around Mac's arm._

_"What are you sayin'?"_

_"Maybe it's some weird, fucked up fate for us to be together," she said, a bit of blood rushing to her cheeks._

_"Can I tell ya something?"_

_Ansley nodded, her eyes unsteady...worried._

_"The moment you put that knife in Logan's throat...I knew I had you. Really had you."_

_"I was high, out of my head-"_

_"I knew you were like me. Somethin' happened to you somewhere along the line to make you...like me."_

_"Mac, you don't know what you're-"_

_"I ain't high right now, it ain't the drugs talkin'. We're both clear-headed. I know what I'm sayin'."_

Mac ran his hands up her succulent, olive thighs, hooking his finger in the crotch of her panties and giving them a little tug, "You such a naughty little bitch, Cupcake." Pulling the crotch of her panties just fair enough to allow his tongue access, he took a little taste of her sweetness.

"Fuck...just fuck me," she panted, her fingers knotted in his greasy hair.

_Get some meth in you. Get something in you. You're having sober sex. What the hell are you doing? Mac! Remember...everything you love dies!_

Mac jostled the nagging voice inside his head, removing his mouth from her dripping sex. "You always been this nasty?"

"I think so," she giggled, propping herself up on her elbows.

Mac frowned.

"What, Papi?" Ansley groaned, laying back, everything below the waist drumming with excitement...wanting more.

"I don't like the thought of anyone touchin' this pussy 'cept for me," he replied, running his fingers along the crotch of her red, silky panties.

"Can I touch it?" Ansley whispered with a smirk.

Every ounce of blood in Mac's body ran down south, "Yeah," he huskily answered, grabbing her hand and placing it over her panties. "You slut, show me how you do it."

"Well, I start out by thinking of you," she grinned, caressing the outside of her panties and giving a little sigh.

Mac's eyes widened as if to say, ''Go on.''

"I think about how good your tongue, your fingers...your big dick feels, right here," she said sliding her fingers inside the silky fabric, closing her eyes and gently moving her hips with the twirl of her fingers around her swollen clit.

"Fuck," Mac hissed, his hard on becoming unbearable.

"The hot feeling I get when your head slides right in here," she worked her fingers inside of her, "Mmm...fuck, it feels so good, Papi."

Mac's pulse was racing, he wanted to fuck her so badly, but he was enjoying the show at the same time.

Ansley continued to pump her fingers in and out of her wetness, groaning and wiggling slightly, "Unnnn, Papi."

"Don't you dare come!"

"But I'm so close!" She whined.

"I'll punish you, Cupcake," he promised, reaching into his boxers and giving himself a little stroke.

"Yeah?" her voice was tense with need.

"You better believe I'll punish you!"

Ansley's legs starting shaking, her whole body stiffening as she came all over her hand, "I'm sorry," she whispered unapologetically.

"You bad little whore," Mac growled, jumping up off the mattress in his bedroom floor and reaching for something from his dresser. He could feel the wet spot of precum on his tattered grey boxers. "On your stomach, whore!" Mac commanded, holding something behind his back.

Ansley snickered as she turned over, playfully wiggling her plump rear, "Like this?"

"Yep! Eyes forward!" Mac warned, reaching out and pulling her panties down to her knees. "Ass up!"

Ansley faced forward, towards the wall full of tweaker drawings. Her eyes went over the spiders and the webs and her own face. Mac drew her so beautifully, _Am I really that beautiful?_

Her concentration was broken with a severe slap of leather across her bottom, "Ass up!" Mac yelled.

Ansley lifted it up, as he took another crack across her round ass. She bit her lip at the sting of the leather on her skin, "Oh! Macerio!"

"Why are you bein' punished?"

"For coming!"

"Because?"

"Only you can make me come," Ansley whimpered as he popped her again.

"Good girl," Mac said, dropping the belt on the floor and releasing his pulsing cock from his boxers and positioning himself behind her.

Once Mac was in, he buried himself to the hilt in her sweet, pink warmth. He didn't start slow, he began fucking her as hard and fast as he could, gathering her raven locks into a ponytail and pulling, "Yeah, Papi...fuck yeah!" Ansley cried, rocking her body back and forth, meeting his thrusts halfway.

"You're never goin' anywhere. You're mine, Cupcake. You're mine!" Mac hissed through his tight jaw, still pulling her hair like makeshift reigns.

Ansley clawed at the mattress, too consumed with pleasure to form a response.

Mac leaned over her backside, releasing her hair, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and kissing over her ear, "Never goin' anywhere, baby."

* * *

Devon closed the cracked bedroom door, unable to believe what he was witnessing. _Mac making love?_ I mean, it was not tender or sweet, this was Mac we're talking about, but they were both enjoying it...and happy...and _sober_, more than anything.

Devon crept outside to his Mustang, once inside he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

"Hello?...Yeah, I was giving Mac a visit since we haven't heard from him since he brought you your money...I think I know why he's behind on orders...Dad, he has something...something I want."


	15. Chapter 15

_"Your mother and father are worried, that's why you're here," the bald gentleman calmy explained behind his cherry wood desk, looking her over through his fine-rimmed spectacles._

_"My parents...worried?" she scoffed, shaking her head as she fidgeted around childishly in the high backed leather chair. _

_"Ansley, they are concerned about your recent ventures with promiscuity and experimentation with drugs."_

_"Oh my God! I smoked a few blunts, so what? I gave a few blow jobs! That doesn't make me crazy!"_

_"You're not here because they think you're crazy," he answered, turning his body slightly to punch something into his silver Macbook. _

_"You're a shrink. Why else would I be here?" Ansley agitatedly chewed her lip, looking out the window at the fresh Smoky Mountain snow._

_"I personally think you struggle with depression. Your file is quite full of very disturbing things, things a _doctor_ would pinpoint to depression. Maybe some psychosis," Dr. Tipton replied. _

_"Like what? It's my file, I should know what bullshit my parents have come up with now!"_

_"Self-harm, hallucinations, insomnia, promiscuity, paranoia, drugs...nothing that can't be fixed over time with therapy and meds. But, you have to be willing to open up to me, Ansley. I want to help you," Dr. Tipton's grey eyes seemed earnest. He shifted in his seat, straightening his red sweater vest._

_Ansley drew in the deep breath, tugging on her hoodie strings, trying to defer herself from crying. "They know it's about Anissa. Why can't they just say it's about her?"_

_"Tell me. Tell me about Anissa."_

_"She died," Ansley never lost her focus of the pink strings twirled in her fingers._

_"And?"_

_"What the fuck else is there?! She's dead!" Ansley shouted, dropping the strings of her sweatshirt and placing her hands over her face. "She's dead and there was nothing I could do!"_

_"She was your little sister, Ansley. She died. Do you blame yourself?"_

_"Of course I fucking do! I was 13, she was 5! I was responsible for her!" Ansley sobbed into her hands._

_"You cannot blame yourself. Drowning deaths in young children is an unfortunate, common occurrence. You were just a child. You are still just a child."_

_"If I had been paying attention, she would be alive today. My parents know this. They know it! They hate me for it! The disgust in their eyes when they look at me! I see it!"_

_"Ansley, please calm-"_

_Ansley jumped from her seat, knocking over Dr. Tipton's nameplate and a tumbler of pens, "Fuck you! No one will ever understand what it's like to have the ghost of my baby sister following me for the rest of my life! Drugs and sex makes living easier because my fucking parents sure as hell won't just let me die!"_

* * *

_"Sweet Pea, it's going to be fine," Greco Lombardi smoothed his daughter's hair behind her ear._

_Ansley remained stoic, pressed against the car door. _

_"Hector, this is it," Greco announced to the driver in the front seat of the Cadillac XTS. _

_They drove up a horseshoe driveway to a triple story house with stucco walls and bay windows. _Laguna Beach Recovery Clinic. $17,000 a month. How generous of you, Father,_ Ansley thought to herself. _

_"I want you better, honey. Do you understand?" Greco placed his hand on his trembling daughter's shoulder._

_"I could get better in Tennessee, Dad," Ansley muttered, still wedged against the door._

_"No. You need to separate yourself from the problem. Tennessee is the problem. As soon as our house sells, we'll be looking for a home here," Greco nodded to the distant coast line that was the backdrop. _

The problem is I let my sister die, _Ansley's mind blurted. She closed her eyes remembering the bloated, blue little girl the paramedic pulled from the bottom of the in-ground pool. Her stomach churned. _They're getting rid of you, Ansley, you know they are. One less problem to deal with, _her mind continued to taunt her. _

_"I have business to attend to in New Mexico and Arizona. Possibly Utah. Your mother will be flying out in a few days. She'll be a the Four Seasons," Greco pulled his daughter close to him. "Si è ciò che la sinistra, io ti amo mia dolce," he whispered, his Italian accent still strong. _

_"Anche io vi amo, Papà," Ansley whispered as Hector opened her car door. "Per favore non mi lasciare qui, per favore non vi sbarazzerete di me," she begged as two male orderlies reached inside for her. _

_"È necessario scaricare il veleno, amore," Greco said, releasing his daughter as she was hauled out of the car._


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. Been very busy. Hopefully will get things moving along soon! Thanks for all the reads & reviews. xo_

* * *

Shutting his eyes tight, he remembered the way she cried out when the leather hit her ass. The way she touched herself. The way she obliged to _his_ every demand. The way she wanted _him_.

Opening them, he looked down on the half-conscious body under him, "For fuck's sake, Regina! Look at me!" Devon screamed.

Regina's eyes rolled in the back of her head as she let out a weak moan. Devon pushed himself off of her.

"Fucking heroin is getting to be a fucking joke," he scoffed, sitting up on the side of the bed, loosening the restraints on Reggie's wrists. Leaning over he picked his boxer shorts up from the floor.

Devon knotted the material of his underwear in his hands, his knuckles white. He was unable to shake the image of Ansley and Mac from his head.

_Mac had what was rightfully yours. He broke Regina before you could. It's only right to take what's his. It's only right. Mac is filth. He doesn't deserve anything...especially not her._

"Mom?" Regina mumbled in her drug-induced trance. "Don't worry, Mom. Devon takes care of me. He takes care of me."

Devon rose from the bed, sliding on his boxers, and began to pace the dark bedroom that once belonged to his parents'.

_He doesn't deserve her. You found her. She's supposed to be yours. _

* * *

Mac made his way into the bedroom. Dirty and tired after a day of cooking and making deliveries. Ansley lay asleep in a pair of powder blue panties and a white bra, sprawled across the dirty mattress on her back. Mac stopped to admire the sleeping figure, feeling himself get hard as his eyes went over her near naked body. He reached into the pocket of his coveralls to reposition himself, forgetting the wad of Benjamins that were tucked inside. He pulled the money out and examined it in his palm. $2500 in cold cash. He made his way to an uneven spot in the floor, just a few feet from the mattress, lifting up a wooden board and pulling out a filthy bundle of cash wrapped in a rubber band.

"We gonna get out of here, Cupcake. Before he can ever find out about you. Before he can hurt you," Mac said quietly to himself, adding the wad of $100s to the cluster of green. "You can't go home, we can't stay here," he let out an exasperated sigh. Placing the floorboard back down, Mac examined his forearm. The tweaker wounds were beginning to fade. Light pink scars were left on some of the areas. He hadn't completely quit using, but he had cut down drastically. When he felt the need for the meth, he just wore that precious pussy out instead. Mac licked his lips, watching Ansley's chest rise and fall. Her skin still golden. Her arms tainted with paling track marks. Her hair a wavy mess fanned around her. Mac's appreciation for her angelic sleeping figure was broken as she began to twitch and toss around the bed.

"Anissa, no...Anissa!" she writhed, the muscles in her neck sticking out in a strain.

Mac stripped his filthy coveralls from his sweaty, dirty body, joining his Cupcake on the dirty mattress in his stained wife beater and undershorts. Draping his arm across her as her dreaming and lament continued. "Shhh, Cupcake," he whispered against her shoulder.

"Anissa...please!" Ansley screeched as she popped her eyes open to find Mac's staring back at her.

"Dream, that's all it was," he reassured her, propped up on his elbow, his arm still resting across her middle.

Ansley looked past Mac to see the little girl standing beside the bed. Her face bloated, her skin blue.

"Tell me she's not there," Ansley whispered, clenching her eyes shut.

"She ain't there," Mac repeated, placing a rough palm against Ansley's face.

"Tell me you're not going to leave me, Papi," she asked, opening her eyes again and placing her trembling fingers into Mac's sweaty hair.

"I ain't gonna leave you."

"Tell me why you changed, I need to hear it again," she said, pulling herself closer to him, turning on her side to face him, tangling their legs together. Trying to ignore her sister's dead eyes watching her from the other side of the room.

"You're like me. We're both bad. Both unwanted. It was some sorta fucked up destiny...Devon bringin' you to me. You're the first person to ever kill for me. First person to ever look at me like I was...somethin'...somethin' other than a monster. First time anyone's ever made me not want to be monster no more."

"If you're a monster, I'm a monster," Ansley whispered against Mac's lips.

"We'll suffer the hell together then," he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, grazing hers in the process as her fingers hooked in the straps of his tank top.

Their amity was disrupted by a familiar_ ring, ring, ring _as the receiver light flashed on Mac's beat up cell phone. Mac groaned as he rolled over to the edge of mattress, stretching to retrieve the phone on the floor.

"Yeah?" Mac answered with gall in his voice, turning back to face Ansley.

"Tomorrow get to the cave bright and early. El León just put in a new order," Devon said loud enough for Ansley to hear. "Might wanna bring _Cupcake_ to help out, it's a big batch."

"The fuck? He just got 1000 kilos, he couldn't of sold it all already!"

"Either you can listen to me or Dad can come tell you _and_ Cupcake if you'd like."

"Fuck you. Yeah. Bright and early tomorrow, got it," Mac begrudgingly agreed and he threw his phone down onto the mattress causing it to bounce onto the floor.

Ansley frowned, seeing the unrest in those blue eyes, "I've been thinking...you could turn me in. Send me home. I'd never tell anyone anything. 25 grand to yourself. You could be free of this hell-"

Mac jarred upright, fiercely grabbing Ansley's hair in his right fist and pulling her up alongside him as she whimpered in pain, "No! You're mine! Fuck no... Never. I give you back to them? Hell fuckin' no! Give you back to your folks that put you in an institution?! Send you back to that fuckin' pretty boy fiancee of yours?! Fuck no!"

Ansley bit her lips together and nodded meekly.

Mac lost the grip of her hair, suddenly turning gentle. Running his hand down and placing it lightly around her neck, his thumb and forefinger feeling the rapid pounding of her pulse, "I got a plan for us, Cupcake. You're mine, whether you wanna be or not, I ain't givin' ya a choice," his voice smooth, even, and very assertive.

"I trust you. In some sick way, I've always trusted you," she assured him as his fingers worked down her neck to her left shoulder, pushing her bra strap down.

"I'm a bad man. You shouldn't trust me," he whispered, second-guessing himself and his plans. _You're gonna get your fool self killed. Her too. _

"I've seen worse men. Devon's one of them. Your father." Ansley reached behind her, undoing her bra clasp.

"Don't worry about the snakes in the garden when they're spiders in your bed," Mac said, crashing his mouth to Ansley's.


	17. Chapter 17

They pulled up to the cave as the sun barely rose over the canyon walls. Ansley's head drooped onto Mac's shoulder, still asleep. After putting the truck into park and turning off the headlights he sat there, still. Listening to her breathe, her light breaths tickling the hairs around his ear.

It was these moments. The moments no one was around to witness, the moments Ansley herself never knew existed. Mac rested his head on hers, his cheek flattening her hair. He placed his rough hand over hers that rested on his leg. He closed his eyes, feeling that ephemeral comfort.

_"He's just a boy! Do not punish him!" she shouted, stepping in between the trembling 4 year old and his father._

_"Fuera de mi camino perra!" Walter demanded, his belt tight in his grasp._

_"We'll go! I'll take him and raise him myself! Just let us alone! No more burdens on you. You can have your fucking cave!"_

_"Arlene, usted sabe demasiado, simplemente no puedo hacer que..." the weary Mexican whispered. "El muchacho sin embargo puede resultar de alguna utilidad un día."_

* * *

"Wakey wakey sleeping beauties!" Devon tapped on the driver's side window, causing Mac and Ansley to awaken with a start.

Ansley smiled to herself seeing Mac's fingers intertwined with her own, the smile soon faded as she realized where they were, who they were with, and what they were going to spend their day doing.

"Fuckin' shithead," Mac muttered, straightening up in his seat and removing the keys from the ignition. He glanced over at Ansley, "Cupcake, this is gonna be the last batch we ever cook," he gave her hand a little squeeze. "C'mon," he said opening up the truck door as Ansley slid across the bench seat to exit on the passenger's side.

Ansley hooked her arm around Mac's elbow as they made their way into the cave, following behind Devon. Something just didn't feel right, Ansley could feel the alarm in Mac's stature. Inside, the cave was undisturbed from the last time Mac was there. Everything exactly as he had left it. Ansley felt Mac's tensity release and she relaxed herself.

"How many kilos, Dev?" Mac asked, reaching for an old pack of cigarettes off one of the work tables and offering Devon one. Ansley still steady by his side, searching the ominous cave for the first sign of trouble.

Before Devon could answer, "Mac!" Ansley gasped and gripped into his shoulder with her nails.

"Hola, son. Not going to introduce me to the little _querido_?" the white-haired, brown skinned man stepped out from the shadows of the cave. His shirt unbuttoned, showing his large, intricate spider tattoo across his chest. He rested his palms against the other side of the work table, his eyes taking in every ounce of Ansley in her coverall clad body.

"The fuck!?" Mac raged, his eyes immediately meeting Devon's.

"Sorry, bro," Devon shrugged, lighting the cigarette.

Mac pulled Ansley by the arm, forcing her behind him, "What the fuck is goin' on?!"

"She's quite the _belleza_, Devon. I see why you want her for your own," Walter said, licking over his lips, his cold glare never leaving Ansley, even as most of her was hidden behind Mac.

"I told ya, Dad...I told you she was too good for him," Devon said, smiling, looking right into Mac's eyes.

"The scum of the earth is too good for him," Walter said, diverting his eyes from Ansley to his eldest son.

"No! Fuck no! I'll die first! She's mine!" Mac screamed, echoing off the cave walls, his arms protectively behind him, encircling Ansley.

"No, son. No. Not today," Walter shook his head. "Suffer first."

"Why!? What the fuck did I do?!" Mac's voice broke as a stifled sob escaped his throat. Ansley bunched the fabric of Mac's coveralls in her hands, praying that this was all a dream, burying her face into his back.

"What did you do?!" Devon yelled, thrashing his arms about manically, "I'll tell you what the fuck you did! You took what was mine! Reggie was mine! She was mine! And you broke her! She was supposed to be mine to break!" He took in a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his hair. "You took what was mine. Now I'm gonna take yours."

"And do what?! Kill her?!" Mac spat, feeling Ansley shake furiously behind him, her jaw trembling as she bit back tears.

"No," Walter shook his head again.

"I'm going to take her, like you took Reggie, right in front of you! Make you watch! Helpless to stop it! While she cries and begs me to stop! I'm going to bust her wide open. Then, I'm going to shoot her up until she's half dead-" Devon stopped short, watching his father approach from around the table.

"Then we turn her into the authorities. Take the reward money. Send you to prison," Walter finished.

Ansley finally let out a muffled, tearful scream into Mac's back, "Please! No! Just kill me! Kill me and leave Mac alone!"

Mac spun around to face her, wrapping her tight in his arms, "Shhh, Cupcake. I'm gonna fuckin' kill 'em both before they can lay a hand on ya!" Mac whispered as he brushed her hair out of her face while Walter and Devon cackled behind them. "I ain't never-"

Mac was violently pulled away from her faster than either one of them could fight, in a chokehold. Walter held his baseball bat against Mac's throat as he drug him backwards; Devon snatching up Ansley in the process, his arms tight around her own as she wailed for Mac.

"Ever since I saw you at that bar, I knew you'd become of use to me," Devon said soothingly against her ear. "I thought you were beautiful, so beautiful, even my own dickhead brother wouldn't be able to resist you. The way you sipped on that drink I bought you...those two pouty lips on that tainted glass," Devon smirked looking over at Mac, "you should've seen her...that mouth on that shot glass...all I could think about was that mouth being on my cock." Devon traced over her lips with his fingertips to her disgust.

Mac strained against the bat, swinging his arms wildly at Devon. Walter smiling behind him, "Behave, Macerio. Her life depends on it."

Ansley whimpered as Devon placed a firm kiss over her shivering mouth. "I knew he couldn't resist you. There was something about you, Ans. You broke Mac...and now he's going to watch me break you before he goes to prison, never to see his sweet Cupcake again. Finally, something he loves that I can take away from him. Finally...I win."

"I'll...kill...you...both..." Mac managed to get out as the bat pressed harder into his windpipe, completely cutting off his air supply.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N__: Thanks for all the reads and comments, as always! I appreciate it! xo_

* * *

Mac lazily opened his eyes. The metallic taste of blood still ripe in his mouth. He wanted to feel over his face, but was unable to. His hands were strung above his head as his knees barely held him upright. He could feel the broken bones in his face, the swelling, the bruising, the crusty, dried blood making his skin feel tight. His was in a tight space, a closet perhaps. The bar running across the wall overhead had a few wire coat hangers, the bar he was tethered to. The lightbulb flickering. The door was barely cracked, but he was unable to reach it to push it open farther.

_Cupcake, _his brain reminded him.

He licked the inside of his lips, the duct tape over them pulled at his scruff painfully. _Ansley, Cupcake...I'm sorry. _He felt a burn in his throat and the heavy tightness in his chest drop down to fill his stomach. He wanted so much to vomit. _I'm already broken. Just kill me, Father. Just kill me. _

* * *

Ansley bit down on her gag as Walter tightened the ropes around her ankles, the friction of it burning her skin. Her hands were restrained above her, tied tightly to an iron headboard. The worst part of it, she lay mostly naked, only her pink boyshorts covering her bottom. She felt humiliated, terrified, violated. The bedroom was small and very reminiscent of the Las Cruces motel, except there was no TV, the bed was filthy, and there was a tattered loveseat across the room.

"Maybe you will learn to love Devon," Walter spoke softly, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed.

Ansley sneered.

"You love Mac, no? Even after he brutally raped you? Beat you?" Walter raised his eyebrows and tangled his forefinger into his long goatee.

Ansley growled.

Walter leaned over her, removing the handkerchief from around her mouth, "You were saying?" he grinned evilly.

"Fuck you! Mac was on meth...because of you. The less meth he did, the more human he became. Can't say that much for you, you fucking spic! Or for your youngest son! Fuck you both!" Ansley yelled, pulling on her wrist restraints. "And what he did to me...I felt like I deserved it. I'm no better than him for the things I did. My mind is fucked up, it's been fucked up for a long time. I don't know what's good for me. But Mac, he made me feel alive again. First with pain and fear, then with pleasure and-"

"Love?" Walter chuckled before turning serious. "Mac was a mistake. His mother was a worthless whore. A worthless child from a worthless bitch. The only good that ever came from him is he could cook, otherwise, I would've killed him the day he was born," Walter stated calmly, rising from the bed.

"What about Devon? What makes him so fucking special?!"

"His mother. An angel on earth. I loved her so..." he walked to a cloaked window, drawing back the curtain and peering out. "He is all I have of her memory. And Mac is nothing but a memory of a whore."

"And Regina? You let your son fuck his own sister! How fucked up is that?!" Ansley cringed without realizing it.

"Devon feels things for her that I will, nor you, will ever understand. You know your precious Macerio raped her? Killed all of her friends. He made it possible, so we have him to thank for our sweet Regina," Walter smiled, drawing the curtains back together and turning to face Ansley. "And now we have him to thank for you, too."

Walter walked over to the right side of the bed, to the closet door swinging it open, "Isn't that right, Macerio?"

"Mac!" Ansley cried, seeing him bound and strung up in the closet. His face a rainbow of blacks, blues, greens, yellows, with splashes of red blood.

"Mmmm!" Mac strained, wiggling his body.

Ansley craned her neck as far as her bonds would allow to get a better look at him from the bed, "You close your eyes when he comes for me, okay?" She sniffled back a sob, it pained her to see him so vulnerable. His skin, his coveralls covered in his own blood, and his eyes lost like those of a child.

Mac furrowed his brows, shaking his sore body from side to side, his voice muted by the sliver of silver across his mouth.

Walter stood back, smiling at his firstborn's pain. "Devon and Regina will be here shortly," he glanced down at his gold watch momentarily before he made he way back to the bed, tying the handkerchief back around Ansley's mouth.

* * *

Ansley and Mac held eye contact for what felt like hours, both helpless to save the other. The room got darker as the sun sunk further down into the horizon. Walter had left when the sun was still shining through the cracks in the window, locking the door carefully behind him.

Ansley's heart sped up when she heard keys in the door, her worried eyes holding onto Mac's terrified blue ones.

Devon stumbled in, holding Regina upright with one arm. The girl was practically a skeleton, it was cadaverous. Her complexion was pallid. Her hair mousy, thin, and unkempt. Her wrists and ankles raw from rope burn, her arms littered with track marks identical to Ansley's. She wore a tattered nightgown that made her look almost like a ghost.

"Come, Regg," he said, pulling her across the room and into the bathroom. "You stay in here and don't come out until I say so, understood?"

"Yes," her dry voice cracked."Good. Good girl," Devon smiled as he backed out of the bathroom, closing the door. He looked over Ansley then at Mac, shrugging, "It's hard to find a good babysitter, you know? She's figured out how to get out of the house, found her wandering around the front yard the other day," he laughed, sounding like he was talking about a pet cat more than a human.

Mac growled, viciously throwing his body from side to side, causing the coat hangers to fall on top of him. "Oh, calm down! You're about to get quite the show!" Devon smiled, looking back over at Ansley. "Man, look at those titties...I bet you had fun with those things, huh?"

Ansley began thrashing her arms and legs violently, causing the bed to creak loudly. She chewed on her gag until she felt like she was going to choke on it. Devon stepped over to the bed, holding himself over gripping the iron headboard, inching close to her face as she turned away, forcing the side of her face into the mattress. He pressed his lips against her ear, "No use in fighting, Cupcake."

Mac groaned, growled, and gnashed as Devon began pulling his clothes off, first his shirt, then his jeans, casually dropping them on the floor. He stood alongside the bed in his boxers, "I'm going to enjoy this, babe. So much," his eyes running over her body.

Ansley shook her head as tears rolled alongside her head. Devon sat on the bed, causing the mattress to shift. Ansley's body trembled as he placed one hand on her cheek, "Shhh."

Mac never stopped wrestling against his restraints, he felt every miniscule drop of adrenaline course through his veins. _I'm going to fucking kill you._

Devon ran his hand softly from Ansley's face down to her collar bone, gently tracing over it with his thumb, trailing his thumb to the hollow of her neck and down to the valley between her breasts, "Your body is outstanding," he wickedly smiled, placing a flat palm over her left breast. Ansley groaned in umbrage.

Keeping his hand on her breast, he used the other one to feel over her mound through her underwear. He frowned when he found the fabric dry. "You get that pussy wet for Mac? And look at him! White trash!" Devon grabbed between her legs hard, causing her to arch in pain. "Why can't you get wet for me, Cupcake? Huh?" Devon's jaw was tense with rage.

"Mm! Grrmmm!" Mac wailed from behind the duct tape.

Devon climbed onto the bed, sitting on his knees between Ansley's spread legs. He brutally grabbed her underwear and ripped them from her body, throwing the shredded fabric at Mac. Ansley wriggled helplessly on the bed, her sobs muffled while Devon used his index and middle finger to spread apart her folds, nearing his mouth to her.

Ansley squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Devon's spit run down between her legs as he began motioning his fingers along the outside of her core, spreading the lubrication. "Gotta make do, I suppose," he said, his eyes angrily peering into Ansley's. He pulled his fingers away, bringing them to his nostrils and then down to his mouth, "Mmm! Boy, you were right, big bro! She does taste just like a sweet little cupcake," he menacingly smiled over his shoulder at Mac.

Mac, still unrelenting in his efforts to free himself, screeched from behind his taped mouth what sounded a lot like, "Fuck you!"

"I'm going to take the gag out... because I want him to hear you. Whether you're screaming from hating it or loving it, I want him to hear every cry from those pretty little lips," Devon said, reaching behind Ansley's head to undo the knotted fabric. "I want him to hear you beg. Cry. Scream."

"You fucking sicko!" Ansley immediately barked as soon as she was able.

"Oh, baby...I love it when you talk dirty!" Devon smiled, leaning over her body, his hands pressed into the mattress at her sides. He kissed across her stomach, dipping his tongue down into her navel before jolting back upright, "Oops, I almost forgot!" he said, reaching over the side of the bed and retrieving a knife from his clothes heap on the floor, "Something to remember us by," he said, leaning back over her, taking the knife and puncturing into the skin over her hipbone.

"Ahhhh!" Ansley screamed out in torture.

Mac moaned weakly behind his gag as he watched Devon drag the knife around in a circle and in several straight lines, Ansley screaming for mercy. When he was done, he licked his thumb, running it over the new mark on her body to cleanse it. "Beautiful," he grinned, bringing his blood stained thumb to his lips and sucking.

It was a spider.


	19. Chapter 19

Devon leaned back over the side of the bed to put the knife down and retrieve a condom from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Can't be leaving evidence when you try to lie and say I raped you," he smirked, sitting upright on the bed and edging his boxers down.

Ansley looked over at the closet. Mac sat still, no longer fighting, no longer struggling against his pinions. His chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes intent on Devon's every move.

"Look away, please..." Ansley feebly requested of him, his eyes piercing into hers with more rage and torment than she had ever seen in them before.

"No, watch. Watch me destroy her," Devon nonchalantly instructed, opening the condom wrapper and sliding it over his erection. Devon climbed over her body, holding himself up over her. Ansley kept her eyes on Mac, trying to go to a different time, a different place. Mac's eyes were still on Devon. Devon leaned down and gently kissed Ansley's neck before bearing his teeth and biting into it.

"God!" Ansley cried out feeling the blood run down her neck, soaking into the mattress behind her head.

"Look familiar, brother?" Devon glanced over at his brother, his lips stained with her blood.

Mac restarted his intense fight against the ties binding his arms, his angry screams indistinct.

"She sure does taste good!" Devon rasped, entering her with no warning.

The burning pain cut through Ansley, her walls were completely dry and the friction was caustic. But, she did not cry, she did not beg, she did not scream. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as Devon pushed himself into her recklessly, harder and harder with each thrust. Tears escaped her tightly shut eyes.

"Say it feels good, Ansley! Say it!" he demanded, grabbing her face and forcing her to face him. "Say it feels good!"

Ansley spat in his face, "No!"

Devon wiped her saliva from his cheek, laughing and squeezing her face even harder, "Say it feels good or I will slit Mac's throat."

Mac thrashed around the closet, useless. Ansley looked over at him and mouthed, "I'm sorry."

Looking back to Devon "It feels good," Ansley said, with no emotion in her voice, swallowing back the hot tears she wanted so much to sob.

"I know it does! Fuck, Mac, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best pussy you ever had," Devon panted, stopping his assault on Ansley to meet his brother's eyes. "I might have to keep her for myself."

* * *

Ansley lay still under Devon's sweaty, motionless body. His head resting between her breasts. She looked for hidden objects in the pattern of the ceiling. Her mind swam, her body relaxed. Devon was fast asleep with the syringe still in his hand.

Mac had broken the bar in the ceiling and had shimmied his way to just outside of the closet door. His restraint still tied to the bar and the bar being too long to fit through the door. He sat, his arms still bound behind him, leaning against the doorjamb with tears rolling down his face. He had lost. _Everything you love dies, Mac. Everything._

"I hear the train a comin'...it's rolling round the bend...and I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when," Ansley sang to herself quietly, finding stars and flowers on the ceiling. "When I was just a baby my mama told me... son, always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns...but I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die and when I hear that whistle blowing...I hang my head and cry..."

Devon snored loudly and Ansley mumbled more of the song to herself, Mac began furiously knocking his head on the wood of the door, wishing so much he that could just blackout.

The bathroom door creaked open, "Devon?" a meek voice asked. Regina stepped out, her face more pallid than before and her entire body covered in beads of sweat. She was coming down. Her chest heaved rapidly as she witnessed him laying naked atop Ansley, familiar with the markings on Ansley's arm.

Mac moaned to get her attention.

Regina said, "The spiderman."

Mac squinted his eyes and cocked his head in confusion.

"Is the spiderman here?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.

_Walter, she must mean Walter. _Mac shook his head.

"The spiderman, he scares me..." she wrapped her arms around herself. "He makes Devon crazy."

"Don't worry about the snakes in the garden when the spiders are in your bed," Ansley muttered mindlessly. "Snakes in the bed. Spiders in your head."

Mac sighed, exasperated. Ansley and Regina proved useless...their brains rotten with heroin. Devon had shot Ansley up with more than twice the amount she was accustomed to.

"Devon hurt her, didn't he?" Regina said, walking to the foot of the bed, overlooking the two naked, crumpled bodies, then looking over her shoulder at Mac.

Mac nodded.

"Devon says to be a good girl or the man in the mask will hurt me again," she shrugged, making her way back towards the bathroom.

"Noooooo!" Mac managed to sound through the duct tape, nodding to the knife in the clothes pile. His eyes pleaded with Reggie's. _Save Cupcake and yourself. Please. At least do that._

Reggie understood as she bent down to pick up the knife, looking to Mac for further instruction. Mac looked behind him, trying to get her to understand to cut his hands free.

Regina stood for moment, the knife in her hand. Mac wondered how badly this would end until she walked across the room to him and pulled the tape from his mouth. He screeched as the tape pulled his facial hair.

"Cut my hands free, Reggie. I gotta help her," he nodded to Ansley.

"Devon might-"

"You don't worry 'bout Devon and Walter no more, okay? You're gonna be safe from here on out, alright?" he tried to sound calm.

"Okay," she whispered, stooping down. She balanced herself on her knees at Mac's side as she sawed through the rope.

Mac brought his arms around and stretched his fingers out, feeling the blood running freely to his limbs once again, and pulling himself up. He rested his hand on Reggie's shoulder and pried the knife from her trembling fingers., the crescent scar on her neck caught his eye as he swallowed hard.

"Go in the bathroom and lock the door. Don't come out, no matter what you hear," he gave her a little pull, helping her from the floor.

Reggie nodded, walking nimbly to the bathroom and gently shutting the door behind her. Mac heard the door lock. He stood at the bed, his grip on the knife almost painful.

"Papi," Ansley idly smiled.

"Cupcake," he whispered.

Mac jumped hearing the slam of a car door outside, but Devon didn't budge. Mac walked to the window, peeking out. Sure enough they were in the lodging behind the Luna Mesa, Walter was getting out of his truck. Mac had to think quick. He wouldn't be able to kill them both.

Mac padded across the floor, back to the bedside, and reached into the pile of Devon's clothes, searching. Once he found what he was looking for, he leaned over Ansley, trying to ignore the fact that his half-brother was naked, sleeping on top of her bare body. _Fuckin' aye, Mac. You have never had such self-control. _He wanted to slit Devon's throat, gut him, string his intestines across the room. Instead, he put a tender palm to Ansley's face.

"I'm gonna miss ya, Cupcake," he fought back the sting of tears as he put Devon's cell phone to his ear. Ansley pressed her cheek against his hand.

_"911. What's your emergency?"_

"Ansley Lombardi. You'll find her at the lodging behind the Luna Mesa on Hwy 153. There's another girl, too. Come quick before it's too late," he ended the call and dropped the phone to the floor as he lost his composure, slumping to the floor and covering his face with his hands.

The rustle of keys in the door.

Walter stepped inside, removing his cowboy hat. He took one good look at the scene before him, "Macerio, how did you...?"

Mac quickly stood up, the knife in hand, "One wrong move, Old Man...I'll gut you from nose to navel." Mac's murderous demeanor had returned. "I'll gut you and I'll cut golden boy's pecker clean off! You understand me?!"

"Papi?" Ansley asked, her diluted pupils looking concerned as she shifted her body underneath Devon.

Devon awoke, oblivious to his surroundings, massaging his own injection site between his fingers and dropping the used syringe into the floor. Before he could even acknowledge the girl underneath him, Mac yanked him off the bed by his hair, pressing the knife to his throat.

"What the fuck?" Devon screamed, gripping onto Mac's forearm, struggling to free himself from his brother's strong vice.

"Macerio! No! He is your brother!" Walter pleaded, his hands outstretched to his youngest son.

"Ain't no brother of mine," Mac said, gliding the knife against Devon's flesh, causing a small slice right behind Devon's left ear.

"Mac! C'mon now! You can have her back, man! You can just take her and go!" Devon entreated, covering his genitals with his hands, as his neck was painfully arched against Mac.

"I ain't never gonna get away from you two...unless you're both dead," Mac smiled, looking his father right in the eye.

"No! Mac!" Devon said, struggling against Mac's force.

"Macerio, take her and leave. Go! Take the money you have been hoarding and go!" Walter said, pulling the wad of dirty cash that was under the floorboards of Mac's bedroom from his waistband and throwing it on the bed beside Ansley, "Go!"

"You fucking spic... Hell no." Mac whispered, never dropping his gaze from his father's eyes as he drove the point of the knife into Devon's neck.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N__: I know some of you are happy and some of you are disappointed with chapter 19...but regardless, thank you for reading and commenting! This is a purposely short chapter. xo_

* * *

Mac dropped Devon to the floor. Devon wrapped his hands over the bleeding laceration in his neck, already feeling lightheaded from the blood loss. Mac wiped the blood from the knife across his pants leg as Walter dropped to the floor beside his bleeding son.

"Macerio! Maldita sea! Hacer algo! Maldito salvar a tu hermano!" Walter panicked, looking up into Mac's cold blue eyes.

"I don't know what the fuck you said, but if you're askin' me to do anythin' to help him, you're wastin' your last breath as a free man," Mac replied callously.

"I'll kill you if he dies, Mac! I'll fuckin' kill you!"

"I don't care anymore," Mac whispered, turning to look at Ansley on the bed.

"Papi?" she languidly murmured, "What's hap-happening? I don't feel good."

Mac walked to her side, laying down with her for just a moment and kissing her feverish cheek, "This hell you're in...it'll be over with soon, Cupcake." He slowly sat back up on the side of the bed as blue flashing lights transpired through the gaps in the curtains, placing his hand to her cheek one more time.

"Papi!" Ansley's voice turned panic stricken, her eyes growing wide.

The gun shot went through Mac's left shoulder, the bullet lodging in the wall above the headboard. Mac slid from the bed onto the floor, not moving. Walter did not have time to drop the gun before the uniformed men broke the door down, immediately restraining him. He fought hard, cursing them in Spanish as they drug him outside.

"Ansley, are you okay?" a young, blonde officer asked, undoing the rope from around her wrists, and then releasing her ankles. "We're here to help you, okay?"

"Help him! Help Mac!" Ansley cried, trying to climb off the bed and into the floor with the lifeless body.

Another officer, older and overweight with a gray mustache, pulled out his CB, "Yeah, we need a bus! Got one victim with a puncture wound to neck, must be in his late twenties. White male. Another white male, late thirties, gunshot wound to upper left thorax."

"I need you to calm down, an ambulance is on it's way," the blonde officer said, holding her up in his arms and wrapping a blanket around her bare upper body. "You're one of the lucky ones," he said coolly, sitting beside her, taking her hands and examining her rope burns and track marks.

The older officer went to the bathroom door, shaking the locked handle, "Is someone in here? We're here to help!"

Reggie opened the door, the officer's face washed over with grave concern, "Miss, are you okay?" He immediately noticed her skeletal figure, the rope burns, and track marks. "Looks like two counts of kidnapping," he turned and looked at his blonde accomplice.

"Rape, torture," the blonde officer added, turning Ansley's wrists in his hands, taking in all of her blemishes.

"C'mon, hon. Let's get you to the station," the older man wrapped an arm around Regina's thin shoulder. "You're safe now."

"Safe..." Reggie muttered, almost inaudible, as she looked down at her bleeding brother with blatant contempt.


	21. Chapter 21

Walter sat alone in his cell. His wrists chained to his waist and the chain from his waist dangled down to secure his ankles.

"You have a visitor, Reyes," a bulky guard announced from the other side of the bars.

"Any word on my son?"

"Which one?"

"I only have one son. Devon." Walter's gaze bitterly met the guard's.

"I see...well, Devon will be out of the ICU tomorrow. No word on how long his hospital stay will be, but we'll have a cell waiting for him across the county in Davis when he gets out."

The guard unlocked the cell and Walter Reyes stood, looking small in his prison jumpsuit, as he was escorted out, down the hall and through a door. The interrogation room was cold and dim. The metal table and chairs reflected the dim, flickering light. The guard held his hand out to usher Walter to a seat at the table.

"I already told you everything I know, _idiota_..." Walter grumbled as the guard shoved him down into a seat by his shoulders.

"That's not why you're here," a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

Greco Lombardi made his way in. He was a handsome man for his age, his salt and pepper hair matching that of Walter's. He looked neat in his designer black suit and shoes. He smoothed out his navy blue tie as he took a seat across from Walter, his brown eyes blazing.

"Thank you, Wayne. I'll let you know when I am done in here," Greco dismissed the guard.

"I told them, I did not know she was your daughter," Walter said, not meeting Greco's eyes.

"And I told you, Walter, that everything that you have told them I do not believe," Greco responded, resting his elbows on the table.

"Must be nice having so much power, Greco. All these worker ants..." Walter smirked, still looking down.

"I tried to help you, years ago...after I lost my precious Anissa. I spent so much time in the game after her death. And what did you do to thank me? Turned El León and his gang against me! Then some years after that you kidnap my Ansley and torture and rape her!" Greco banged his fists on the table.

"I did not even know about Ansley until-"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Walter Reyes! Or I will have you killed right now! Right fucking now! Ansley told me about what you did to her and that other girl! You think I'd believe you over my daughter? On a cold day in hell!"

"You are a _necio_, Greco..." Walter whispered, finally looking in Greco Lombardi's eyes.

Greco Lombardi smiled, "Insult me all you want. I have some friends on the inside at Davis waiting on your little Devon to come. Just remember that. You'll pay for the pain you caused my family." He calmly rose from his seat, giving Walter one last smile before exiting the room.

"_Joder_!" Walter screamed, shaking the chains that bound him.

* * *

"Darling, I don't understand why you won't just come home with your father and I," Kelly pleaded with her daughter, exasperated. She paced the living room, always looking like one of the Real Housewives, her 4-inch heels clicking around on the hardwood floor.

"Mom, I just need to stay in Cali, okay?" Ansley said, pulling the cashmere throw to her face. It felt weird to be back in her apartment. To hear the ocean right outside her windows. Everything was clean and bright. Her closet full of expensive clothes. The Italian leather furniture in her living room. The stainless steel appliances in her kitchen. She felt like a stranger in her own home. "Dr. Tipton said I'll be fine as long as I stay on my meds. I haven't even experienced withdrawal from the heroine-"

"You went through so much," Kelly tensed her face, not wanting to cry, "you were raped...you were-"

"You don't have to tell me what I went through. I lived it." Ansley swallowed hard.

Kelly looked her daughter over, though she was 29...she was still so childlike. She looked tiny in her oversized gray Stanford sweatshirt, her hair in a messy, moppy bun. Kelly sighed again, knowing her daughter was in fact a grown adult and that maybe space was what she needed. "Okay, alright. But, I will be using my frequent flyer miles to come out here every weekend, do you understand?"

Ansley nodded while Kelly Lombardi flopped on the couch beside her only living child, cradling Ansley's head to her, "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Mom, I'm okay."

"And that fucking prick Harrison...I could rip his throat out-"

"Mom, I was gone for over a year-"

"Ansley! He had no right to just move on like that!" Kelly objected, not noticing how she hugged Ansley tighter to her. "He should have kept vigil, hope that you'd be found alive!"

Ansley lifted her head from her mother, her eyes confident, "I'm strangely comfortable with it, Mom. I don't think we were ever right for one another. There are things inside me...things he could never understand. Wants he could never fulfill."

Kelly nodded again, "Strange, you've always been strange...but I think maybe it's just been me not realizing how strong and unique you are." Kelly smoothed a stray string of hair behind Ansley's ear. "I'm just so glad you're alright."

_I'll never be alright, _Ansley blinked away tears thinking only of the steel blue eyes that haunted her dreams.

* * *

"Get out," he grumbled, throwing a wad of twenties in her direction as the bills landed on the empty spot on the mattress.

"You know, maybe you should get that checked," the skinny brunette mapped her shoulder with her fingers referring to his bandaged wound that was already seeping through the white gauze as she stood, searching the floor for her clothing.

"I'll live," he said, rolling on his side and snatching a baggie of joints from the nightstand.

The hooker skimmed the room with her eyes, countless bottles of whiskey and condom wrappers littered the floor. "This place is a pig-sty...next time you have _company_ over, maybe you should tidy up a bit," she shrugged, pulling her red miniskirt up.

"That's what the fuck the maids are for," Mac spit, before lighting his blunt. "Now get the fuck out."

"You're a real charmer, Mac," the girl rolled her eyes as she yanked her shirt over her head, quickly grabbing up the cash and giving him the middle finger on her way out of the room.

Mac smoked his joint quietly in the empty motel room. He lay naked on the bed, the sheet pulled up across his stomach, his head propped against the headboard. He had brought back a different girl every night this week. All of them olive-skinned brunettes...but none of them her.

"Cupcake," he said aloud to the vacant space around him.

He took the last drag of his smoke and put it out on the nightstand. He pulled the one drawer open on the small table, reaching inside he pulled out a sliver of paper.  
A check.

To_ Macerio Reyes. _Amount_ $25,000. _Signed _Greco Lombardi. _

Mac held his lighter to it, wanting so much to set it ablaze. But in some crazy way it was the last thing he had to remind him that she was real, what he felt was real, and that even if it was just her being crazy or being high...she had cared about him. His affliction was interrupted with a _beep, beep, beep_ from his new cell phone.

A text read,_ Hey, it's Niko from the shop. Talked to a friend in Tijuana. The shop is yours if you want it. _

Mac dispiritedly sighed. Was he really about to go back to trying to live a normal life? Make an honest living? So far Las Vegas had proven a decent place to start up another kitchen. He was bringing back a grand or more a night selling what was left over from the cave and Walter's stash.

_Tijuana is closer to her, _his mind hinted.

Mac sent his response: _I'll be leaving here tonight then._


	22. Chapter 22

Her body twisted, sweat beading over her neck and chest. Her dark bedroom was quiet aside from the sound of the waves in the distance.

"Shhh, Ans," he ran the back of his hand softly over her strained face.

"Mac?" she asked, opening her eyes to a tall figure by her bed, unable to see his face in the dark.

_Click_, he switched on the lamp at her bedside. His green eyes rigid with concern and a touch of jealousy.

"Mac? Who's Mac?" Harrison asks, sitting beside her on the bed.

"What the hell, Harrison!" Ansley said, bolting upright, covering herself with her pink sheets.

"I came to check on you, babe. Ever since you came home, I couldn't stop thinking about you," he placed a hand on her thigh, giving it a little squeeze through the thin sheet.

"Ugh, I thought you gave my mom your key," Ansley groaned as she shifted her leg away from his touch.

"Why are you covering yourself up? Like I've never seen that gorgeous body before," he gave her a playful wink.

Ansley rolled her eyes, "What happened to Tasha or whatever?"

"Tish...she's history. Like I said, from the moment I found out you were alive, I couldn't-" he paused, scrunching his eyebrows together, "Okay, let's get back on the original subject, who's Mac?"

"I was dreaming," Ansley lied, combing through her hair with her fingers. "You should go, Harrison."

"I want to work things out. No one can take care of you like I can, after what happened to you...God, I want to kill those sons of bitches for hurting you," he reached out to touch her face as she moved away. "Ans, come on!"

"Harrison, I don't think we're right for each other. There are things about me that...that you'd be better off never knowing."

"You can tell me anything, Ans," his eyes were sincere.

"I killed two people," Ansley's heart jumped a little at the shock of admitting it so carelessly.

Harrison chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "There's my sweet, funny girl."

Ansley moved away from his touch yet again, "Go."

Harrison stood up, running two hands through his dirty blonde hair, "I don't get you, Ans. I don't fucking get you."

"And that's why you should go," Ansley bore her brown eyes into his green ones, her lips in a straight line.

"Fine. Fine. I tried with you, I really did," he said, turning to walk out.

"Leave your key on the coffee table!" Ansley shouted after him, slumping back down under her sheets. She closed her eyes, remembering her dream. Mac's rough hands caressing her body, his teeth raking her skin. The feel of his grit and filth. His smell. It had all seemed so real. She fluffed her sheet out, feeling a little hot. Before she sheets dropped, she gazed down over her naked body running her fingertip over the the raised white scars on her hipbone...the spider; Devon's voice_ "A little something to remember us by."_

"I remember," Ansley sighed, turning to switch the lamp off.

* * *

The Tijuana sun was unforgiving as Mac handed over $13,000 to Julio Ortiz, the now former owner of Julio's Auto Care.

"She's all yours, varón," the short Latino man announced placing the shop keys into Mac's open palm.

Mac nodded, looking behind him at the worn down shop. It was a plain building, gray cement blocks, big white garage doors...dust and sand everywhere, but it was his. For once in his life, he had no one to answer to.

Mac thanked Julio with a bag of weed and shook his hand as the little man got into his old, beat-up, blue Toyota pickup.

Mac pulled out his cell phone as he stepped inside the office, he dialed 3 digits. "Lombardi, Chula Vista."

_"I'm sorry. There are no listings for that name."_

Mac groaned with displeasure, taking the phone from his ear and shoving it back into his pocket. Every single night he had dreamed of her. He missed her scent. Her closeness. The way she looked at him. The way her body felt against his. Her lips. Her taste. No amount of drugs, alcohol, or whores were ever going to make his need for her disappear.

Taking a walk through of the garage, Mac stopped at a certain piece of equipment. An engine hoist. He traced his finger over the hook, remembering how he once had his sweet Cupcake strung up by her bound wrists, her naked body shaking and jerking under his touch...she had been scared then, but even then they both felt something they didn't want to feel.

_I'll find her...I gotta. _

Mac sighed, pulling his cell phone out again. 17 new messages from 17 new potential clients. His lip twitched. Surely the garage would be enough? He could get out of the game. Scrolling down the feed, he recognized a number. He nearly dropped his phone trying to text back.

_I'd be more than happy to be your business partner. Just bought a shop in Tijuana. Perfect cover up for a kitchen. _So much for getting out of the game.

_Good, Mac. I owe you so much for what you did. I need someone trustworthy to monitor my West Coast sales and I need someone to look out for her. Someone who's not afraid to get their hands dirty if the occasion arises. _

_I can be that man. _

_We're throwing a welcome home party for her tonight in the city. Her mother and I will be leaving out tomorrow. Take the night to rest, tomorrow I will give you further instruction._

_What about her? _

_She's living at Rancho Del Rey. Upscale condominium right off the coast. You keep your eyes on her but your hands off, understand? _

_Okay. You can consider her safe. _Mac's fingertips did the lying for him.

_Don't make me regret this, Mac. I trust you. Orders will be coming in soon, so have your kitchen ready. Also, I do not work with junkies, so if you are meddling with the product, stop. Or I will have your head._

Mac let out a deep breath and his heart sped up. He smiled to himself, placing the phone back into his pocket. He was flirting with danger...the theme of his life, it seemed.


	23. Chapter 23

Ansley stepped out of the Bentley her father had sent for her. The La Caverna sul Verde, a restaurant once owned by Ansley's grandparents, was packed full. Ansley grabbed her black sequined clutch tightly, straightening the front her little black dress. She felt awkward being all dressed up; her makeup flawless, her hair perfect. For so long she had been in nothing but coveralls, dirty, her face bare...how could have that been more comfortable to her than dressing like a proper upper-class woman?

"Jesus, Mom...you said a little welcome home party. Looks like the entire Italian community of California is here tonight," Ansley sighed as Hector, her father's righthand man, opened the car door for her. His shiny bald head reflecting the LED lights from around the building.

"Miss Lombardi," he nodded, offering his hand to help her out.

"Thanks, Hector," Ansley murmured, accepting his hand to help her balance on her 4-inch high Louboutins.

"Anytime, Miss," he smiled, offering his elbow to her as he escorted her into the luxury restaurant.

The night drug on for what felt like forever. So many people closing in around her, hugging her, kissing her, telling her how happy they were that she was alive. Ansley escaped to the bathroom several times, just to breath. She popped a few Klonopins with a handful of water from the sink. Grasping onto the ceramic she looked at herself in the mirror, not recognizing who it was looking back at her.

"Ans?" a voice called out from behind the locked door.

"Yeah?" her voice annoyed.

"Are you alright?" She recognized the voice. Harrison.

"Go away!" she shouted. "Why are you here?!"

"I'm not that easy to get rid of, babe."

"Go away!" Ansley screamed again.

"No!"

Ansley stormed to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. Her chest heaved while a few tendrils of her updo came undone, "I do not want to see you!" She gave the 6'1" broad blonde a hard shove.

Harrison grabbed her by the elbows, looking softly into her hateful gaze, "I'm sorry. I love you, Ans. You need someone to take care of you, and I want to do that."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me. I'm not broken! I'm not!" Ansley sniffled away a few tears. "I'm not broken." _Mac, Mac, Mac _her heart cried. "I'm not broken..." she whispered, trying to convince herself.

Harrison pulled her close to him, her pretty face resting against his firm chest, "I'll be whatever you need me to be, Ansley."

The soft fabric of his suit pressing against her hot cheek, she tangled her hand in his tie, pulling his head down to her level.

"Fuck me hard right here, then," Ansley whispered, her lips just barely touching his. _What are you doing? _

"Ans, are you nuts? Your family is just right down the hall! There's about 150 people here tonight! What's gotten into you?!" Harrison pushed away from her.

_Mac would pound me raw right here. Make it hurt. Make me feel. _"You aren't the man I need, Harrison. I wish you'd realize that. I'm a dark, dirty girl on the inside. You're sunshine, warmth. And I'm just a cold, bleak winter." Ansley wiped her nose with the back of her hand, as she stepped away from him, hurriedly making her way down the hall.

* * *

Unlocking her apartment door, she had never felt more relieved. She had practically suffocated the entire night. Swarmed by people who didn't give a rat's ass about her when she was at the Recovery Center, or when Anissa died. Suddenly they flocked around her like she was their best friend, their favorite relative, their girlfriend...Ansley scoffed remembering Harrison's audacity to show up.

She stood in the foyer, tossing her clutch on a console near the door. She leaned backwards on the door, shutting it. She rose up, turning on the lights and making her way into the kitchen.

"There you are," she said to the bottle of whiskey hiding in the back of her cabinet. She happily retrieved it, pouring herself a shot.

It burned wonderfully going down, she slammed the shot glass onto the island, grabbing the granite surface with both hands, tilting her head back and cracking her neck. Finally, her body began to relax. For added comfort, she pulled her hair loose from the elegant twist it was in, shaking her hair around her shoulders. She shrugged observing the half-full bottle of Jack, grabbing it and making her way down to the bedroom.

Flopping on her bed, she looked to her side at the mahogany framed full length mirror. She chuckled to herself, looking quite the kitten in her short black dress and high heels, taking a swig from the bottle.

"You're doing the trick, Jack. I feel better already," she said to the emptiness in her room.

"I bet I know somethin' that'll make you feel real good, Cupcake," a voice came from the patio doors across the way.

Ansley nearly fell off the bed, "Mac?!"

Mac eased his way through the billowing white, sheer curtains that framed her entryway, "Who else would it be? You ain't 'specting nobody else, are ya?" He gave her a half-smile, looking as good as ever in his dirty jeans and flannel.

Ansley put the bottle of Jack down on the floor, practically running to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, "You're here. You're real," she said into his shoulder.

Mac wrapped his arms tight around her waist, "Yeah, Cupcake." He pressed his nose to her head, breathing in her hair. "Fuck, you look good. I missed ya..."

"I missed you...I thought maybe you'd-"

"Forget about ya? Move on?" he asked, pulling away from her to look her in the eyes.

"Something along those lines," Ansley smiled a sad smile.

"I got me a fulltime job 'round these parts, now. You ain't gonna be able to get rid of me," he smiled, his teeth still their daunting black color.

"Doing what?"

"It ain't none of your concern. I'm here, ain't I?" he held his arms out to signify this.

"You're right. You're here. That's all I need," Ansley slammed her mouth to his, dominating his tongue with her own. She had never kissed him so hard, so willingly before.

"God, baby...you taste like sweet whiskey," Mac's cock jerked under his clothes, pulling away from the kiss.

"Why am I not surprised that we've been reunited for only minutes and you have got one thing on your mind?" Ansley said, running her hand over the bulge in his jeans.

"Look at you, in this little number...and them fuckin' heels...mmm," he ran his hands down her waist, over her hips, to her ass giving it a tight squeeze. He leaned into her ear, "Fuck me with them heels on."

"Macerio. Does someone have a shoe fetish?" Ansley snickered, tickling over his facial hair with her fingertips.

"I got a Cupcake fetish," he tongued over her ear lobe, causing her skin to break into goosebumps.

Ansley stepped back from him with a sheepish grin, turning around and walking to the foot of the bed. She slowly unzipped the back of her dress, making it a point to bend over just right as she shimmied it down her legs and stepped out of it. She stood there in her black bustier with matching thong, and those new favorite shoes of Mac's. She turned around to face him, placing her hands on her waist and giving her hourglass figure a playful shake. Her cleavage was unbearable in that getup...so much in fact Mac was already stroking himself inside his jeans. He had been with other women, true...but none of them did _this_ to him. Tormented him in such a delicious way.

Ansley picked up the bottle of Jack, taking another drink before Mac approached her, pulling the bottle away from her plump lips. He wagged his finger as if to say, _No, no_. He took the bottle, turning it upside down at the hollow of her neck, watching the brown liquid run down her chest, pooling in between those two beautiful tits. Mac immediately plunged his tongue in the valley of her breasts, licking up the alcohol, moaning huskily into her bosom. Ansley wrapped her fingers into his unruly hair, "Fuck, Mac...I've needed you so bad."

Mac raised up, wiping the excess whiskey from around his mouth, "Can I tell ya somethin'?"

Ansley nodded, growing concerned. Mac never stopped once he was this riled up.

"I thought when I came here tonight, you'd freak out. Make me leave or somethin'...because you're clean, and I know you been seein' a doctor and-"

"You think what I felt for you back in Caineville wasn't real?"

"Yeah," he said, looking down at his hands.

"Some parts of it were drug-induced, but for the most part, I couldn't bare losing you," she answered honestly. "You give me something no one else does. From the first time you-"

"Raped ya?"

Ansley meekly nodded, "I guess you have to call it that. But, I had never felt so...alive. I was addicted. All the screaming, crying...that was just me being scared of the darkness inside of me."

"I love that darkness about you," he said, taking her thin hand into his own. "Twin souls, me and you."

Ansley cracked a smile, "Twin souls, _Papi,_" she agreed. Sitting on the bottom of the bed, becoming eye level with the zipper of his jeans, she hooked her fingers around his belt loops. "Now, kiss me like you missed me and then fuck the hell out of me," she said lifting her leg up, teasing him with her heel, running it gently up his thigh.

"Yes, ma'am," Mac smiled, his eyes lust-filled, undoing the button on his Levi's.


	24. Chapter 24

Mac unzipped his jeans, hungrily staring down Ansley's bustier. Ansley leaned up from the bed, giving the denim a little pull as they dropped to the floor. Mac caught something out of the corner of his eye, the full-length mirror. A smirk spread across his face.

"What?" Ansley half-laughed at Mac's expression, biting her bottom lip with anticipation.

"Lose that thong, and sit over here," he pointed to the left side of the mattress. "Sit in front of the mirror," he commanded as he leaned over to untie his boots.

Ansley raised an eyebrow, returning his smirk. She stood up, sliding the thin, lacy fabric down her legs and kicking them from around her black heels, and walked around to the left side of the bed. Mac let a small growl out watching the way her hips swayed in those shoes. She looked at him as if to say, "Here?" and he nodded. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him in the mirror.

Mac practically ripped his flannel button-up off, kicking the pool of denim from around his ankles along with his boots. He crawled up behind her on the bed, looking at their reflections.

"Now what?" Ansley shifted her head to look at him with her legs crossed, dangling one shoe from her foot.

Mac reached around and unfastened the first 3 eyehooks on the front of her bustier, making her nipples just barely peek out from the black satin. "Spread 'em, Cupcake...spread 'em as wide as they'll go," he said, reaching between her thighs with his right hand and giving them a push apart by spreading his fingers.

"Mac this is silly," Ansley's cheeks flushed. She had never looked at herself like _that_.

Mac snaked his left hand around her neck, pressing his mouth hard to her ear, "I said fuckin' do it."

The dominance in his voice made her even more wet with want, she obliged and assumed the spreadeagle position.

"Mmm, Cupcake," he said, peering at the sight in the mirror from behind her shoulder. "That pussy's mine."

"Yours," Ansley smiled, turning to nuzzle her nose against his scruffy cheek.

"Eyes forward, baby. I want you watch me own that sweet little cunt," he licked over his top lip, taking both his hands to turn her face to the mirror.

Ansley looked in the mirror, feeling her cheeks get even hotter, as she watched Mac's right hand slither around he waist, sweeping down to her wetness. He lightly traced over her clit, making her let out a small moan.

"So fuckin' wet," he planted a small kiss on her neck before strumming her clit slowly with his middle finger, returning his eyes to the mirror, watching his hand caress the most delicious spot on her body.

"Oh, fuck...Mac..." Ansley sighed, starting to enjoy the sight of him fingering her; she leaned back on her hands, gripping the sheets tightly.

Mac played with her nub for only a second more before inserting his thick middle finger inside her wet hole. Ansley let out a loud gasp, jutting her hips out a bit. Mac watched in the mirror as his finger fucked her.

"Feel good, baby?" he murmured, his eyes connected with hers in the reflection.

"Yeah," her whiny voice answered.

Mac inserted his forefinger, rapidly pumping both fingers in and out of her, putting a little pressure on her clit with his thumb.

"Oh...oh shit...oh! Mac!" she whined, her shoulders shaking as her orgasm built up. Mac could feel her walls starting to throb around his fingers.

"I want your come in my mouth," he hissed, removing his fingers from her and getting up from the bed. "You watch me worship this pussy, you understand?" he said, pointing behind himself at the mirror. Ansley nodded as he knelt in between her legs, replacing his fingers' with his tongue.

Ansley watched in the glass as Mac's head moved between her legs, his firm grip on her outer thighs. "I'm so fucking close, baby!" she cried out.

Mac teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, lightly flicking over it several times.

"Mac!" Ansley growled, growing impatient with his teasing.

Mac wasn't one to take orders, removing his mouth and striking her pussy harshly with a rigid palm, "You'll come when I want you to come."

"Yes, Papi," Ansley groaned, the mix of pain and pleasure becoming nearly unbearable.

Returning his mouth to her, he flattened his tongue against her entire slit then worked it in slowly as deep as it would go inside of her, lapping roughly at her delicate walls. He reinserted his two fingers, curling them around to find that hot bundle of nerves.

"Oh my God! Mac!" Ansley reached for his hair, grabbing fistfuls, grinding her cunt hard against his face. The feeling of his tongue, fingers, and the scratching of his facial hair was an incredible combination.

All it took was one good, hard suck on her clit to send her crashing. "Mac, fuck!" she whimpered, falling back.

Mac let up, wiping his mouth with his hands, "I told ya I was gonna own that pussy, Cupcake." He stood up, taking one more good look at her relaxed body across the bed.

Ansley nodded her head lazily, "It's yours. Only yours."

Mac leaned over her, undoing the last few clasps on her bustier, running his hands over both breasts as he stood back up, his cock straining out from his olive green boxers, "Well?" he motioned to the obvious, "What you got for Papi?"

Ansley foxily smiled, rolling on to her stomach and raising up on her hands and knees, reaching between her thighs and spreading her lips apart, looking behind her at Mac who was speechless, "This. Come and get it."

He stared a moment, appreciating the view. "Mmm, stay just like that," he zealously removed his boxers, throwing them across the room. Climbing up on the bed behind her, he ran his hands all over her smooth bottom. "I can't figure out if I like your ass or your titties more," he said, giving her ass cheek a little jiggle before leaning down to bite it.

"Oh!" Ansley squealed, rocking on her hands and knees. "You don't know how much I've missed that," she grinned.

"I could eat you up, baby girl," he gave her ass a hard slap causing her to jump again.

"Do it then."

"I'm gonna fuck ya, eat ya, then drink ya. There won't be not a thing left of ya once I'm done," he promised, teasing her opening with his head.

Ansley was so bothered and ready for her next orgasm, she leaned back hard into Mac's dick, that easily slid inside her soaked folds.

"Fuck!" Mac hissed. "You impatient lil' bitch," he said, giving her a hard, punishing thrust.

"I love it when you talk to me like that," Ansley simpered, purposely clenching tight around his member.

"Because you know you're a nasty little whore," Mac slammed into her even harder.

"_Your_ nasty little whore," she corrected.

"_My_ nasty fuckin' whore," he dug his nails into her shoulders, raking down hard all the way to her ass.

"Fuck me like a whore then," Ansley's voice became mean and tense as she squirmed under the grazing of his nubby nails.

Mac snatched her hair, jerking her upright with her back against his chest, his knees folded under her for support as he wrapped a tight arm around her waist, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby," he buried his mouth into her neck, licking and sucking, grabbing her breast into his hand. His fingers clamped onto her perfect, erect pink nipple as Ansley reached up behind her, stroking his hair. Mac looked back over at their profiles in the mirror.

"God, you're beautiful as fuck," he whispered as he began rocking his hips, bouncing her on his lap. He pushed her down onto her stomach, her front flat against the bed, as he continued to pump in and out of her. He planted kisses between her shoulder blades, trailing them down her spine and working his way back up all the way to the nape of her neck.

"You getting gentle on me, Macerio?" Ansley teased, resting her head on the backs of her hands.

Grabbing both of her elbows and snaking his way down to her wrists, he held them together against her back. "Fuck that. I'm gonna rip you apart, Cupcake."

Ansley could feel her wrists bruising under his tight grip, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I want you to fuckin' scream!" he said, pulling completely out of her and thrusting roughly back into her, as she let out a throaty shriek.  
"That's right, baby, that's right!" Mac smiled, still pushing her wrists hard into her own back with one hand. His other hand, gathering her hair and pulling, causing her neck to arch and her face to lift from the bed. Slamming into her once more, he felt her wet pussy tighten around him for the second time, her juices flowing freely around him. The wetness and the warm were too much for him.

Mac could feel his release nearing, his balls tensing, "Holy fuck!" he panted, crashing down on top of her back.


	25. Finale

_A/N: Well guys, this will be the end of Sweet Stockholm. I'm kinda sad because I've enjoyed writing it so much! But don't worry, it won't be the last you hear from me (or Mac). Thanks for all the reads and reviews! xo_

* * *

When his eyes opened, he didn't know what to make of his surroundings. The soft pink sheets smelled so good. Raising his head from the satin pillow, he looked around the room, she was nowhere in sight. Sitting up and swinging his leg over the bed, he stretched his toes out over the plush white carpet, reaching down to recover his boxers and his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

Wadding the boxers up in his fist, he turned on his cell. _11:08AM, 2 missed calls. _Fuck, it was Greco. Mac slid on his underwear and then quietly trotted across the bedroom, opening the door and listening for the sound of Ansley in the apartment. Walking down the hallway, he investigated the living room and kitchen. On the fridge there was a note, _At the gym. Be back soon. xo, Cupcake._

Mac let out a sigh as he dialed up his new boss."Greco?"

"Ah, Macerio. I had called to deliver some good news for you."

Mac leaned over the island, resting his elbows, "Yeah?"

Suddenly the jingle of Ansley's keys in the door made him let out a "Oh, shit!" as he ran back down to the bedroom before she could spot him on the phone with her drug lord father.

"What was that about? Mac? Hello?"

"Uh, nothin'. Dropped my cig. You were sayin'?"

"Got news today Devon has officially been taken care of."

Mac swallowed hard, his back pressed against the bedroom door, "Good."

"And I understand Walter is quite miserable. I had him paired up with a most perfect cellmate," you could hear the smile in Greco's voice. "It won't be long for him, though. I understand his cellmate is looking for a way into solitary...just needed to space out their deaths. God forbid I look suspicious." Greco laughed. He didn't care. He had enough money to own everyone he wanted to.

"As long as he ends up dead, I don't care how it's done or who does it," Mac muttered, turning to crack the bedroom door to make sure Ansley wasn't coming.

"I agree. Well, I just thought I'd brighten your day with that tidbit of information. I will have plenty of work for you soon."

"Looking forward to it, boss." Mac ended the call, resting his head back against the door, breathing in and out slowly. So many mixed emotions ran through him. He was fiending for his tin, but knew those days were over or Lombardi would have his head. Mac chuckled to himself, _You're worried about being a junkie when you're fuckin' his daughter? _Meth he could give up, but not his Cupcake. Never his Cupcake.

The sound of light footsteps came down the hall, as Mac tossed his cell phone onto his jeans in the floor and bolted for the bed, pretending to be asleep. He lay quiet on his stomach, wrapped in the pink sheets and white duvet. He even faked a snore or two as he watched her through the mirror, stripping off her yoga pants and sports bra, dropping the clothing into the floor and walking through a door beside the closet, closing it behind her.

He sat back up, hearing the faint sound of water flowing. He walked softly the bathroom door, opening it as the steam hit his face. He watched her silhouette through the foggy glass of the shower stall.

Ansley wrung out the water from her hair that made perfect black ringlets when it was wet, reaching around behind herself blindly for the conditioner when she felt flesh against her fingertips. "Mac?"

"Yeah, Cupcake," he answered, his naked body pressing fully against her backside.

Ansley wiped her eyes, "I didn't hear you come in," she said, "I thought you were still asleep."

"Heard ya in here, figured you might want ya some company," he said, spinning her around by the elbow to face him.

"You figured right," she smiled, reaching for the soap and sponge. She worked the sponge into a lather proceeding to rub in over Mac's chest, from shoulder to shoulder.

Mac watched her as her eyes ran over his body, gently washing over his chest, arms, and stomach. Reaching up, he tangled his strong hands into those perfect wet ringlets, "Cupcake?"

Ansley met his eyes. She felt like a stranger was staring back at her. His eyes were no longer tortured...they looked free. Dropping the sponge, she placed two sudsy hands onto his outstretched biceps, "What is it?"

"I don't ever want us to be separated again, ya understand?"

"What are you-"

"You know what I am. What I do. I don't want nobody else. I ain't tellin' you, I'm askin' you to be mine," his thumb gently caressed her cheekbone.

"I can agree to that," Ansley whispered, her eyes soft and sincere, pulling Mac's wrist so that his hand cradled her face.

"Good," he pulled her closer to him, catching her lips with his.

As they let up from the kiss, Ansley grinned, "Just don't expect to meet my parents anytime soon."

"Wouldn't worry too much about that," Mac smirked. _If she only knew. _


End file.
